‘Covert’ is her middle name.
CCU slid through the aisles, the trench coat collar sticking up high, as she pretended to gaze at ingredients thoughtfully.
Sauces.
Canned goods.
Baking aisle.
She was so close, a bead of sweat trickling down from her temple. She wiped it away, as if swatting a fly, trying to appear inconsequential.
A man with a moustache looked at her. They knew. She quickened her pace, her heart beating erratically, and she pushed past busty ladies balancing their babies to get to the area.
The cake mix area.
Like a venus flytrap, her hand snaked out and grabbed the mix, before being stuffed into the inside of her coat.
Look left.
Look right.
And so, she fled Coles.
*Disclaimer: This story is for humorous purposes only, no foods were stolen in the making.
**Also, I don’t know if Coles is worldwide, but here down under, it is one our major supermarkets. No they did not pay me to use their name specifically, it could have been Woolworths for all its worth, whatever suits your imagination 🙂
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Ok, now see here, this story is all what you would call, an example of, ‘artistic licence’ – taking an event and twisting it because I have the right to do so as someone who regards themselves as published. No sorry, actually, it can be done by anyone.
Ever heard of Chinese whispers? Exactly.
Go Bake Yourself 