“Ah damn.” Ever stopped wiping the counter top, looking at Taylor. She was crouching down on the balls of her feet, head inside the cabinet next to the ice cream display. “We’re out of rainbow sprinkles. I told Unc that we needed more stock.” She pulled out her phone and began texting furiously. “Seriously, I don’t have time for this,” her fingers suddenly stopped, “but you do.”

  She snatched up a clear wrapping and thrust it into her colleague’s hands. “Could you run down to the store on the corner and grab this brand of sprinkles? If you can’t find it, just get any brand of rainbow sprinkles, they’re all the same anyway.” Ever stared at her. “What? Oh, money, um… do you mind paying with your money first? Keep the receipt. I’ll make sure to give it back to you at the end of the day.”

  —--

  Ever sprinted down the street, weaving past staff at other restaurants setting up for the day, who swore at him in Italian as he almost bowled them over.

  Remind me to teach you about how to not take things literally.

  Ever paid his mentor no attention. He had just arrived at the corner store. The automatic doors stiffly slid open as a customer walked out with a full, paper bag.

  Sprinkles… Ever rummaged around in his pocket, feeling past the burgeoning stack of bank notes until he found the crinkled up wrapping.

  WHAM!

  The automatic doors did not automatically open for him, instead shuddering from the shock of him walking head down into them.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ignoring Death guffawing in the corner of his mind, he placed his palm on the cold glass. No one seemed to have noticed. He placed his other palm on the other door and tried to force it open. It did open as a guy in shorts walked past, holding a sports drink.

  Better hurry young soul, your manager is waiting…

  Ever was sweating. He jogged up to someone scanning groceries. “Where can I find rainbow sprinkles?”

  “Just a sec,” the check out guy droned. He glanced over at the wrapping. “Aisle 5.” He gestured in the general direction with his head.

  Ever shimmied past the customers in the queue, who squeezed up against the conveyor belt. He walked into aisle 5 and stopped in the middle. His eyes were assaulted by the sheer number of boxes, different shapes, sizes and colors of baking products.

  “Trident…” Ever read, looking at the logo. After scanning for a few moments, sure enough, it was there in the third row from the bottom. “How much do I need?” Ever grabbed two, hesitated then grabbed a third.

  He jogged out, making his way back to the check out guy. He did a double take; a display of long, slender shapes caught his attention. Without thinking too much, he grabbed six of them.

  “Found them?” The check out guy murmured.

  “Yes,” Ever said, feeling pleased with himself.

  The check out guy slid the three bottles of sprinkles over the scanner. His hand hovered for a moment over the first of the six items Ever had impulsively grabbed, eyed him, then scanned them all through.

  “That’s $42.50.” He counted out $50 of notes Ever had thrust in his direction, returning the change.

  “Could you put it in the bag?” Ever asked.

  “Errr… sure.” Check out guy said, tipping his hand into the paper shopping bag.

  Ever diligently carried his bag containing three bottles of sprinkles, six cans of Fem Fresh deodorant and change jangling around, power walking right into the automatic door again.