Buntle’s

by on 01/06/10 at 11:53 am

by Andrew Oberg
1,200 words
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Randolph had most Tuesday’s off, and he usually put these to good use by stocking up on his weekly groceries. His local supermarket, Buntle’s, was only a few blocks from his one bedroom, a fact of convenience that outweighed the stores’ slightly higher than average costs, particularly on dairy products.

This Tuesday was no exception to Randolph’s routine, and after a leisurely paced morning of coffee and computer games, he slid into his winter boots, buttoned up his sheepskin coat, and headed out his door. Walking briskly up the steps of his building’s split entry, Randolph was surprised to see his upstairs neighbor on the landing. She was peering intently into the grated section of one of the mail slots in the long row of steel boxes, and muttering excitedly to herself. As he approached, Randolph realized it was his mailbox that had caught her attention, and he paused on his way out the building to ask what she was doing.

“None of your business,” the woman shot back, then glanced up to see Randolph standing there with one hand on the door. “Oh, it’s you, Mister B2N,” she said, a hint of venom on her tongue. .....

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