Cereal Aisle Novels & Stories

A lot of the KASH MANCHESTER use this place because the owner is connected to the organization. ISAAC also has to re-pack dog food, among other things. ISAAC missed ISAAC's favorite breakfast cereal terribly while ISAAC was in Italy. Everyone from the old generation loves bragging about the old country as if it were heaven on earth. But ISAAC've already told VINCENT DANZA that the next time ISAAC'm not going to work for some Italian shitbucket whose local store doesn't sell Lucky Charms. ISAAC suffers from so many aspects of life, but running out of ISAAC's favorite cereal is not fuckin' one of them. Surfing the shelf of the cereals, ISAAC has an unreasonable fury erupt within ISAAC because

"Ooooh, the Joseph who's got the hots for you?" She smiled brightly at my choice of words, "that's him" I shook my head at her and opened the top cupboard that had my cornflakes. It was my absolute favorite cereal and I couldn't find it anywhere in the states so I had to wait until a relative went home to have them bring back a box or five for me.

Adam continued his journey through the bustling grocery store, pushing his cart with purpose. He knew he needed to restock his kitchen, and breakfast was at the top of his list. He had been so caught up in his work lately that he hadn't had time to eat properly. As he reached the bread section, he grabbed a loaf of sliced bread and a jar of chocolate spread. He mumbled to himself, "Maybe some cereal too?" Contemplating the idea of adding cereal to his cart, he placed the bread and chocolate spread back on the shelf and turned toward the cereal section. The shelves were lined with colorful boxes, each with its own enticing promise of a tasty breakfast.

"I'll get the rest." I took half the list and went left. We moved through the aisles separately, which was the most functional version of this arrangement. I found what I needed, crossed things off, turned a corner and nearly walked into him at the end of the cereal aisle. He looked at my basket. "You got the wrong one." I looked at the box in my hand. *It's the same brand,* I wrote. "It's a different size, she wrote in large." He took it out of my basket, put it back on the shelf, and got the right one. He dropped it in without comment.

There was nothing quiet about it, it's sound rang through her ears loudly as they enter the entrance doors, sliding open only for the customers in rhythmic queue. Aisles and aisles of food bombarded her vision, so much food. Everything was constructed into categories: Vegetables and fruit in one aisle, meats and dairy in another and the best part about this whole supermarket was the junk-food aisle. It wasn't that she ate a lot of it but when she did, she would indulge into a bit of everything. Why not? You only live life once, Harlow knew that better than anyone and the little things that brought her joy she cherished them.

Michael chuckled, “Look down that aisle.” He pointed behind them to brightly coloured packages, Alissa picked one up noticing it was bread but it was squishy, there was no crust of the bread and again it was thinly sliced. Alissa shook her head putting the yellow package down. “Anything else?” Alissa asked as she peered down another aisle

Produce first, then dairy, then the middle aisles which he navigated without lingering because lingering in middle aisles led to buying things he didn't need and wouldn't use and would eventually throw away with the specific guilt of wasted intention. He was in the cereal aisle, reaching for the same box he'd bought every Saturday for the last three years, when someone stopped beside him and said, "The one next to it is better." Daniel turned. A woman in her mid-thirties, red coat, dark hair pulled back, was pointing at the shelf with her basket hanging from the crook of her elbow. She was looking at the cereal boxes with the considering expression of a person

I say, I eat those, and like to snack on them. "Calesti, don't call me Mr. Demon, it's daddy and yes, you can have some," he says allowing me to push the cart over to the cereal aisle, I picked the ones that are so colourful and filled with sugar! "These are going to ruin your teeth," he says, but I didn't care, I like them. "We need milk too," I say, I need milk with the cereal, the cart was a bit too heavy for me to push now, I was suffering pushing it forward.

While walking, Alice quickly put it on, muttering, "It feels so empty without you; my life is so dull." Alice opened the kitchen set to find something to satisfy her hunger. Instant noodles, bread, and cereal were visible. Alice's hand chose a cereal box, took it to the dining table with a bowl and a spoon. Alice began to pour a little cereal into the bowl and took milk from the refrigerator to pour over it.

A grocery store parking lot appeared ahead. Bright fluorescent lights. Rows of parked cars. Allen pulled into an empty space and killed the engine. For a second he remained seated, staring at nothing in particular. Then he stepped out and walked toward the entrance. The store buzzed with the soft noise of evening shoppers. Carts rattled over tiled floors. Refrigerators hummed steadily. Somewhere near the back a child complained loudly about wanting candy. Allen grabbed a basket near the entrance and walked slowly down the first aisle. Bread. Cereal. Pasta.