Grisly Cravings: A Short Story
(By Nannette Kreitzman)
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| Author | Nannette Kreitzman |
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Excerpt: ____
I kept quiet the rest of the drive to town, hoping I could find someone to express my concerns to while we were there. That hope was dashed upon our arrival. The market was busy, but the normally cordial shoppers were all single minded in their purpose - buying meat. Grampa, who I’ve seen give a needy neighbor his last dollar, nearly knocked over a pregnant woman as he shouldered his way through to the display case. Grabbing two large roasts, he headed toward the cashier. ____
The grocery line was where the townsfolk shared news and spread gossip, but not today. It was tense and silent. An unmistakable trace of black sludge was on the neck of the person in front of us, making me think of how that cloud had grown and divided. Had it kept doing that? Was it still? ____
The cashier cast hungry eyes on the variety of meats she rang up, and one customer nearly had to wrestle his purchase away from the bag boy. When our turn came, the cashier’s thumbnail pierced the cellophane on one of the roasts, causing bloody juices to leak onto her hand. She stared at her fingers, mesmerized, then proceeded to lick them clean with greedy slurps. ____
Grampa rescued his roasts in a defensive grab, tossing cash onto the conveyor belt before barreling out without his change. The fragile shell of civility was cracking. With fearful glances over my shoulder, I was hot on his heels, eager to get out before all hell broke loose.”
