Time for another random quibbling from a writing prompt.
This one is a scene where a character has to swallow her pride and do something she didn’t want to do. Her friend wants to know why as they drive around looking for a parking space.
“I don’t understand,” Anita says as we drive around the car park. “You don’t like her yet you save her from being sacked.” I release a heavy sigh.
Ever since we’d left work fifteen minutes ago she couldn’t let it go. A red Clio pulls into the vacant spot. Damn! That’s the second one within minutes.
“What choice did I have?” I reply. “Debra’s got four kids and needs the money. What kind of person would I be to watch her suffer?”
“She deserves everything she gets. The woman’s a liability. She leaves boxes left open and half filled. No wonder there’s so many complaints from customers. Kids must be crying into their Frozen pillows because of the lack of sweets.”
Anita has a point. Ever since she started work three weeks ago the whole production line had suffered. She’d get to leave on time while we were meant to pick up the slack. Other workers were becoming fed up with her lack of ambition.
“Everyone has their off days. You did once. Remember that incident with the sealing machine.” She purses her lips together. This is starting to get annoying. How many times do we need to drive around here?
Debra wasn’t my friend or anything. If anything we were completely different. She liked her rock and heavy metal music and I liked jazz and classical. She wears black and had piercings on both eyebrows. I don’t have any.
She’d been there for me in a time of crisis. I’d left the house without picking up my purse. Going back for it would’ve meant getting two buses there and back again. That’s when Debra came forward and had offered to pay for my shopping. I paid her back in full the next day.
“That was once. Not a hundred flippin’ times!”
“Maybe, but all she needs is a bit of encouragement. Hopefully she’ll improve.” The corners of her mouth pull down forming a scowl. Her hands grasp the wheel of her pick up truck. If it was someone’s neck they’d be dead by now. We turn the corner to find another free parking space.
“If she doesn’t you can hold her accountable for that.”
“Scout’s honour.” She successfully manages to park. We get out and make our way into the supermarket.
That’s all from me for today.
Hope you are all well.
Until next week,