Inspiration Writing Challenge - Day 6

As deadlines loom,
I feel my doom,
Swift approaching,
Ever encroaching,
As I procrastinate,
I obfuscate,
The quality of my work.

Ta-da, see, I can do poetry too.

Anyway, today's (second) writing challenge will involve something different. The 'Sixth Sense' cards are a Writing Toolbox device that is devoted to the senses. Each card has on it a short phrase designed to invoke one of the senses around a specific subject (e.g. 'The taste of Almonds') the writing exercise involves placing three cards face down, and writing for a few minutes on each of them in turn. So here goes.

Card 1 - 'sticky raspberry yoghurt -
Card 2 - 'the sound of a garden hose' -
Card 3 - 'blue index cards' -

The yoghurt went everywhere, all over the aisle floor. Dean sighed as the customer looked around sheepishly, trying to ascertain if anybody had seen him drop it. Their eyes met, and the customer began walking over.

'Sorry mate,' he said. 'Butter fingers.'

'S'okay,' replied Dead. 'I'll go get a mop.' The customer smiled then, back to normal, as if nothing had happened. That was what annoyed Dean the most, when they just acted like it was nothing, like causing him trouble was just a trifling matter. He knew that it was, of course, but he still found it rude.

He made his way into the back of the store to retrieve the cleaning equipment. He heard an odd noise, the sound of a garden hose - no, not a garden hose, but the hose attached to the sink in the cleaning area. It was running, somebody had left it on in the sink, obviously for quite a while, because the sink was now overflowing. The water was trickling down to make a large puddle, which was quickly becoming much larger. Dean rushed over, splashing through the water to get to the tap, he turned it round, cutting off the flow of water.

'For fuck's sake,' he muttered. This was all he needed, more stuff to get in the way of a nice, peaceful shift. Soon he realised that the puddle was still spreading, he looked for where it was coming from and discovered a leak in the pipe. Not only had someone left the tap on, they'd also somehow dislodged to pipe from its housing against the wall. There was nothing else for it, he'd have to tell the boss.

He went upstairs to the office, and knocked on the open door. Dean could see his manager filing some blue index cards on his desk. Pretty old fashioned, but his store was just that. An old shop in and old town that refused to update to more modern methods. His boss himself was aged - white hair, glasses, and a stooped walk.

'Come in,' came the reply. Dean walked into the office. The manager picked up the cards, his hands shaking, before he promptly dropped them, spilling all over the desk.

'Oh, fudge,' his manager cursed. Pushing the cards further away across the desk in his frustration. Two of them fell to Dean's feet. Dean bent down to pick them up.

'What seems to be the matter, Dean?' the manager asked.

'You know, it doesn't matter,' he replied, and walked off. He didn't stop walking until he got out of the front doors of the shop, where he threw his apron to the ground.

--

Eh, so that one probably spoke volumes about my frustrations at work, and was all the worse for it. Definitely not my best of these writing challenges. I guess 'write what you know' doesn't always make your writing better.