We're going back to the List Prompt today. So use each of the following words in your writing: sleepy, discard, animosity, squeamish.
For those that are curious, I used a random number generator to find pages in my dictionary, then read through the words on the chosen page until I found one I wanted to use. Kinda annoyed I got two so (relatively) close together, but that's randomness for you.
The weather has returned to normal here. We're above zero for at least the next few days, and the snow has begun to melt.
In *very much* related news, my hands feel much better.
Gardenvale has often been referred to as a sleepy little hamlet and now that I'm standing here, in what passes for the town square, I can see why. It's two in the afternoon and the only people I see look like they've either just woken or are on their way to bed.
I'm also pretty sure I can hear a lullaby playing somewhere nearby. Probably the only song the local radio station allows on its airwaves.
My stomach growls - not for the first time - and I decide to find somewhere to pacify it. I try the first cafe I come to and find the door locked. Big surprise. The owner's probably taking a nap in the back. The same is true of the second and the third.
I can feel panic battling with hunger in my belly.
On a hunch I step into the alley between a coffee shop and a deli. It's dark and the stink is bad enough to make me feel squeamish. But maybe I can find an unlocked back door, convince someone to take my money for whatever they want to serve me.
I knew I should have packed a lunch before leaving the house. This is ridiculous.
Shoving aside my growing feelings of animosity toward this town and its residents, I knock on the deli's back door. No answer. I turn and try the coffee shop.
"Who is it?" a voice shouts from within.
"A hungry customer," I call back, annoyed to have this conversation through a door. "Can I pay you for some food? Please?"
I hate myself for that please.
"Come on, man! Don't you have anything? Hell, I'll take somebody's leftovers - I'm not picky!"
"That's gross, man."
"Better than eating scraps out of your dumpster!" I counter, trying to remain calm.
"We're closed," he repeats. "Why don't you go back to wherever you came from?"
Stalking back to the main thoroughfare, I decide that this is no sleepy hamlet. This is an obnoxious hole in the ground to be avoided at all costs. Just before returning to the sullenly empty sidewalk, I step on a discarded banana peel and take a tumble into a puddle of I-don't-want-to-know-what.
It's like this place just wanted to kick me in the ass on the way out the door.