Six Sentence Sunday

[alexseanchai]

From "Run(a)way Model", seven sentences because that rounds out the scene:

Claire doesn't pay the kid much more mind than she ever does. He's a regular at this convenience store, maybe a year or two older than Noemie, never seems to have a parent with him; he's usually here for a bottle of iced coffee, some snack-size chunks of cheddar, and a hot sandwich if there are any, a cold one if not. Sometimes a bottle of ibuprofen. Rarely, something sweet. She mostly ever pays attention to him in the first place because he looks kind of like that model Noemie has proclaimed her eternal love for, and because Claire works days; kids her granddaughter's age should be in school most of the times—such as now—that she sees this boy, and with as much food as he buys, she has to wonder who's supposed to be feeding him.

This morning Claire rings him up for a forest green backpack, a black hooded sweatshirt, a multi-pack of boxer-briefs and another of socks, a travel toiletries kit, a bag of mint chocolates, an electric hair clipper kit, and a box of dark brown hair dye. He pays in cash like always, and the customer after him gets snippy over the ten-cent difference between what the price tag on this protein bar's shelf says and what the register says the bar costs, and Claire isn't getting paid to worry about customers who don't cause trouble.

*kicks story* behave, you