Reduced for Quick Sale
By: Len Saculla
This poxy pandemic. It wasn't just about loss of taste, smell or breath. Sharon had been furloughed. Then fired.
Her erstwhile boyfriend hadn't called in a while. Probably thought she'd ask for a loan. And probably off sniffing around some new female executive sporting Jimmy Choo espadrilles.
The hell with him. She would find a more suitable partner. One who wouldn't judge her fizzled income and frazzled prospects.
No more delicatessens and premium range supermarkets. Just a trudge around the dingy thrift store, looking for special offers. Sharon hadn't been in one of these places for a while and was surprised at some of the affordable merchandise. And, she realised, you encountered different prospects here. Sure, no Rolexed arm waiting on a Ferrari steering wheel. Change your expectations, girl.
Tonight, she was walking her lover boy home.
Good times ahead. She maybe should have splashed out on fitting him with long-life batteries, though.
-