Lost Soul

1-800 Scotland (19)

This was actually a hard chapter to write TBH. 

It's actually hard to get all the shit you wanna say out of your brain and form it into words while also trying not to make it sound like a two-year-old write it yk???????

Any way my darling book worms, enjoy my latest chapter in this hot mess I'm creating lol. 

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Well, I should have known by now that nothing ever goes as planned when it comes to my fricked up life. The 'town' is actually more like a mini-city. Not even thirty minutes away from the school (which by the way, is surrounded by trees, trees, oh and more trees) is a very populated 'town' with all kinds of name brand stores.

The smell of stale gasoline and sewage bombards my nose. Vibrant lights flash everywhere as Gucci slides and Loui Vuitton purses litter the sidewalks like it's going out of style. The never-ending stream of car horns and the constant chatter of the city dwellers create a constant buzz that all mixes together to make white-noise.

To sum up the city, it's nauseating.

With a mental sigh, I continue my quest for some kind of grocery store.

As if on que, I spot a whole foods building across the busy street. Snorting I trot right passed it.

Who in their right minds spends so much money on 'organic 'foods anyway? Whole Foods is like the Versace of the food industry. Pass.

A few cross walks and a headache later, I finally spot a charming small-scale grocery store. Fresh fruits and vegetables sit out-front in woven baskets under a pink and white shader connected to the cream colored brick building. Two large windows rest on either side of the open French doors with breads and pastries displayed on the left, and strung meats on the right. A single white bistro table sits tucked under a second pink and white shader right below the pastries. Leafy vines swing from strung pots as luxuriant blue, flowers decorate the concrete in white pots. Camilla flowers garnish the center of the table in a modest ceramic pot.

I quickly find the cursive writing above the entryway.

Zander's.

An odd name, but the store is a delightful and abrupt change from the obnoxious theme of the city.

I cross the street and make my way inside the new treasure I just discovered. As expected, the inside of the shop was quaint and orderly. Two lengthy shelving unites take up the majority of the white tiled room creating three isles, while the walls are decorated with grey wooden shelves from top to bottom. To my left sits more baked goods inside a glass display case, while the right has an up-to-date register. By the looks of it, this place does very well for itself.

Finishing my assessment, I meander over to where a stack of oval woven baskets lie and delicately lift one up. I can't help but smile as a white cloths line the inside of the basket preventing the course, stiff fibers from harming any produce that one might set inside. The pleasantly old-fashioned feel has me more relaxed then I've been the past few weeks.

I think I'm in love.

Chuckling to myself, I take one last sweep around the store and make my way down the first isle. Thankfully, the store seems to be empty at the moment which makes me all the more comfortable and at ease with my surroundings.

Forty minutes later and satisfied with my findings, I saunter over to the checkout counter by the meats. Unfortunately, no one seems to be manning the register. I shove my heavy basket onto the flat surface and search the store for any kind of human life.

I'm about to put my groceries back and leave when I hear a deep booming voice howl, "Don't fuck with my business, you know god-damned well how much those meats are really worth and I ain't buying them for a peny more!"

Hearing a whoosh, I jump and spin on my heal to see goliath barreling towards me with a bloodied white apron and look that could leave three-degree burns. Terrified I'm about to turn tail and run when the giant stops in his tacks. We both stare at each other for a millisecond when his face morphs into a pleasant smile. With a heavy southern accent he growls, "Welcome to Zander's darlin'."

Too shocked from this man's 180 mood swing, I just continue to stare at him. He's absolutely ginormous standing at least 6'5. He has a muscular build with a thick waist that comes with hard labor and not weights at the gym. His stomach sticks out just a bit, not from fat, but from packed muscles. His ruggedly handsome face is complimented by a clean cut red beard that matches his buzzed cut hair. With harms bigger than my head, this man is a power house. He looks to be in his mid-forties but I can tell life wasn't too peachy for him either as a few scars cover the left right side of his face all the way down to the tight black shirt plastered to his body.

Hey Scotland, the 21 sentry called and was just wondering if you would like you medieval Viking warrior back?

Despite his intimidating appearance, his crystal eyes shine with kindness. Trailing further down I read his white apron, Your opinion wasn't in the recipe with a pink cupcake at the bottom. The surprising juxtaposition has me let out an audible giggle.

What have you gotten yourself into this time sang?

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I KNOW ITS SO SHORT

IT WAS SO HARD THOOOOOO

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don't say it

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THATS WHAT SHE SAID BAAHAHHHAHAHA