I'm awake today! I discovered a trick that I plan to do each night now. That trick is thus: go to bed when my son goes to bed, set an alarm for midnight, post the prompt post, then go back to bed!

Common sense prevails! 🤣

(No, I can't schedule it; I don't know the Freewrite prompt until it's posted.)

Anyway! You can find today's MAYNIA post behind these blue words. The prompts for today are -- fungus -- and -- almanac.

I focused heavily on fungus 😂 and instead of almanac I used calendar.

Onward to Joey and Jenny!

 

_{Header image CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay, and manipulated in the deep dream generator.}

Maynia -- Day Two -- 2263 words

The bright fluorescent tubes glared down from overheard, bathing the shining floor, immaculate shelves and carefully stacked products in a ghastly white light. They also made Jenny’s tired eyes ache. Rubbing a hand across them, she stifled a yawn and leaned against the courtesy desk. She stood with twelve other morning staff, all congregating for their debriefing before the doors were to open, and all she wanted was a hot shower and to go back to bed.

Blair Bouchard, owner of Uncle Blair’s grocery empire, strutted back and forth like a drill sergeant as he inspected her and the others, tutting and shaking his head every few seconds. Flipping a wave of his bleached-white hair out of his face, he appeared directly in front of her and pursed his lips with a soulless, disdainful glint to his eye.

“Jennifer, dahling,” he sighed. “Your hair! It’s an absolute shambles. Absolutely shambolic. Did you even wash it today — or ever? So, so stringy, and are those… crumbs? Ugh. I cannot have you on the checkouts looking like this,” he waved a flippant hand an inch from her face. “For the love of Napoleon and his fantastic range of beauty products, go fix your hair. You’re working the pallets today; less chance of our dear, delightful customers seeing you.”

“Fine by me,” Jenny muttered. Oh how she missed working for Depleted. Most customer contact had been conducted by phone and they’d had several pyjama days at the office. The boss hadn’t been a flamboyant prick, either. With any luck she’d be working in the back office for Blair’s soon, but not if she didn’t make a good impression. Curse Joey and his power-bill failure. Curse the door-muffin also.

“Don’t backchat, sweetie,” Blair sniffed dramatically, pulled out a tiny pink perfume bottle from his pocket and sprayed it around the air, then inspected the next person.

“Oh, Henry! So handsome and presentable,” Blair gushed over the man by her side. “No crumbs in your immaculately combed hair, is there?” he gave her a snide glance. “Henry, you’re on register one today, right next to me and my courtesy desk.”

“Yes, sir,” Henry smiled.

Jenny rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom to fix her hair.

“Excuse me, Jennifer. And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Why, to fix my hair. As you commanded,” Jenny said, smiling as sweet as she could manage but stopping short of performing a sarcastic curtsy.

“Lose the attitude, sweetheart,” Blair snipped, flipping his hair again. “You’ll have a chance to become worthy of standing within my gleaming establishment soon enough. First, there are… things all staff must be made aware of.”

Jenny forced herself to hold another eye-roll at bay and stepped back towards the counter, folding her arms in the same motion. Maybe she should shake the crumbs out, right here. She bit the inside of her cheek and stopped herself; she was an adult, not a child. Blair’s attitude needed to be fixed more than hers though.

Blair sashayed towards the other staff-members and nodded his approval, apparently pleased with the appearance of everyone else he had employed, then said, “Okay sweet-things, Uncle Blair needs you to listen up. The great Fungus is coming.”

“The great Fungus?” questioned a young girl who looked as though she should still be in school.

“Yes, Sally; the great Fungus. Don’t you pay attention to the world?” Blair released a heavy, exaggerated sigh. “Y’all on Twitter these days, right? A few people dying more often these days, right? It will be the greatest event in recent history for our fine grocery store, oh you had better believe it.”

“Um, sure…” Sally whispered, uncertainly.

Blair released another sigh, louder than the last, and placed a hand on his hip as he stood before the young girl, appearing the very image of an overly dramatic runway model.

“There is a disease in the world, darling. Fungus grows on the inside of people, they get sick, they die, and then exploding mushrooms grow from their infected corpses.”

“Sounds ridiculous,” Jenny muttered. “Are you tripping?” she asked, before biting her tongue.

Blair ignored her and kept his gaze fixed on young Sally.

“It’s happening all over the world, officially hush-hush at the moment but I’ve got connections,” he stated proudly. “Won’t be hushed for long though, the news is already starting to spread on the internet. Soon people will be storming in to buy my — our — goods so they can bunker down. I’d bet my multiple millions on it,” he nodded with a wink and a grin.

Jenny stopped herself before she could say something about profiting over others’ misfortune, though such a disease sounded highly unlikely. What was more likely was that Blair had taken a hit of acid before assembling them for their morning meeting. She cleared her throat, raising a hand to hide her smirk, and tapped her foot. Would she ever be able to fix her hair up?

Blair spun a circle and strode towards the back offices, calling over his shoulder, “There’ll be extra training tomorrow night to deal with the onslaught of the masses. All staff, permanent and casual, must attend. Uncle Blair will see you soon, beautiful people.”

Finally, Jenny sighed. Before heading to the staff bathroom she took a quick glance around and noticed everyone going to their designated places for the day, none of whom were looking in her direction, then stopped herself from quickly leaning over the courtesy desk, whipping the hair-tie from her bun and shaking the crumbs onto the flawless floor. Joey probably would’ve had no qualms doing it, but as much as she wanted to she couldn’t bring herself to actually do the deed. She was a responsible adult.

Jenny rubbed at her tired face again, went to the bathroom and fixed her hair, and glared at her red-rimmed eyes before returning to the floor. Blair wanted her on the pallets; that meant wandering out to the back docks, finding the items that were supposed to be stocked during the night but weren’t, and moving them into the store so customers could find and buy said items. A far cry from her days sitting in a lush, comfortable seat at a computer, but at least the dimly lit back docks would do wonders for her aching eyes… until she had to go back inside the fluorescent store, she winced.

“You think this fungus thing is really real?” asked Sally, interrupting Jenny’s thoughts as she neared the double doors leading out the back.

Jenny snorted derisively.

“A fungus, that creeps into people’s bodies, makes them sick, kills them, then uses their carcasses as hosts to grow exploding mushrooms. Seriously? No, I don’t think Uncle Blair’s Great Fungus is real. I think that maybe he took a shroom laced with acid and is in the middle of a fungal trip beyond compare.”

“Oh.”

Sally lowered her eyes, offered a small, shaky smile, and stepped back into her aisle, neatening some boxed biscuits so they were presented perfectly.

Jenny shook her head and entered the delightful dimness of the docks. Boxes were placed tetris-style onto wooden pallets that were then wrapped in plastic and stacked high upon orange metal shelves. Three unwrapped pallets sat on the stone floor beside the back office. Blair and his bleach-white hair was clearly visible from the window and caught her eye, then rapidly fluttered his hand towards the pallets, held his nose into the air, then walked out of sight.

“Fuck you too, buddy,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Sorting through the boxes, she separated the stock into different trolleys so she could work more efficiently. Toiletries were placed together, stationary had their own trolley, and mountains of calendars were piled into another. A good start, but she didn’t particularly want to go out into the bright store just yet. Just thinking about the horrible lights gleaming against the shining floors threatened the onslaught of a migraine.

“Jennifer,” Blair purred at her side, sending her a foot into the air — where the hell had he come from? “You’re not slacking, are you?”

“Of course not,” Jenny smiled and grabbed a trolley.

“Wonderful,” he paused, eyeing her up and down. “And your hair is looking much nicer now. Marvellous. Honestly, sweetheart, appearance is everything.”

He sniffed and hurried on ahead of her, waltzing out the double-doors before she even had a chance to push the trolley. Rolling her eyes at his back, Jenny took a deep breath and forced herself out into the bright store. Squinting, she looked down then squinted some more, her eyes bare slits as she struggled to find a soothing place to look at. It didn’t matter where she looked, it was bright white as far as the eye could see.

Resigning herself to the horror, she looked over the trolley — she had grabbed toiletries — and made her way to the other side of the store, blurring her eyes as she walked so that the brightness was more fuzzy and dreamlike and less striking and painful.

“Hey, Jenny — Jenny!”

Joey’s voice wrapped around her head and sent chills plummeting down her spine. Slowly, Jenny turned around. Joey’s orange mop bobbed towards her and there was a giant grin plastered across his face.

“Joey?” she blinked, focusing the blur from her vision. “What are you doing here?”

“I was picking you up some Restitution Muffins when I saw the most amazing thing,” he grabbed her wrist. “Come, you have to see this!”

“I… I really should be doing this,” Jenny protested, gesturing at the trolley.

“This’ll only take a minute, I swear!”

It was probably best just to do what he wanted so she could smile, nod, then hurry back to work without Blair noticing the untended trolley and her disappearance.

She forced a smile and said, “Fine, but quickly. Blair’s already pissed at me and I’m not losing this job.”

“Hooray!” Joey tightened his grip and yanked her towards the last aisle in the store, then released her and bowed with a flourish. “Check it out!”

Jenny’s eyes widened.

The neat, shining aisle had been transformed into a squatter’s dream. Packages of toilet paper had been stacked one on top of another in a giant wall, individual rolls had been torn from their packaging and dangled in ribbons from what could only be described as toilet-paper-package-ramparts, and it was enclosed. It was a right proper toilet paper fortress!

“Uh, Joey,” Jenny began, staring in awe at the mess. “Did you do this?”

“I saw them and couldn’t help it,” he shrugged. “They were begging for a proper display of toiletship. Think I could get a job here doing displays?” he smiled. “We could be work buddies!”

Jenny blinked, then blinked again, slower, then backed away. She had to leave. Now. Before Blair saw this and blamed her.

“Great, yeah, it’s great…” Jenny moistened her lips. “I’ll just be going back to work now. Cheers for the muffins whenever you get them,” she grimaced and took another step back, but Joey grabbed her wrist again.

“That’s not all! Come inside.” He dragged her through Fortress TP’s gaping door and flung an arm out wide. “It’s carpeted and has furniture!”

He wasn’t lying. Toilet paper lay scattered over every tiny millimetre of the gleaming white floor and was also piled into a couch-like shape.

Jenny closed her eyes. She had fallen asleep in the back docks and was dreaming right now. She had to be dreaming. She opened them again. She wasn’t dreaming.

“Great, i-it’s great, truly,” she stammered. “I have to get back to work now.”

She spun about and raced out the door and slammed straight into Blair’s gangly frame.

“Jennifer!”

She winced. Fuck. She had the worst luck in the world. Why did Joey do this? Fuck it all!

Blair’s face was on fire, his eyes as dark storm clouds as they shot imaginary lightning bolts into her face.

“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing?” he yelled. “The Great Fungus is coming! Toilet paper is gonna be hot, hot, hot! I can’t have you and your boyfriend messing it all up, playing love-castles in my perfect aisles.”

Jenny blinked.

“He’s not my boyfriend; he’s my housemate…”

“I don’t need to hear about your love-life!” Blair screeched. “Get the hell out of my store. Both of you are banned, banned! Don’t come crawling to me when the great Fungus takes over and you need groceries,” he paused, took a deep breath as though to calm himself, then screamed in a pitch so high it set tinnitus ringing through her ears, “Get out, get out, get out — you’re fired, get out!”

Unable to think, to speak, to declare her innocence, Jenny stood still, dumbfounded, and simply allowed herself to be pulled out of the store by Joey and his grasp. He chuckled to himself the whole way but she barely heard him, didn’t see the other customers raising their eyebrows at her, at them, and didn’t see the sympathetic eye of young Sally.

It had been three weeks. Three. Weeks. And she had lost her job.

Warm sunlight touched her face, stirring some life and sense back into her. Slowly, she turned to Joey and stared into his gleaming green eyes.

“Joey,” she whispered. “You didn’t… I didn’t….” She swallowed heavily and wailed, “He kicked us out before you could get my Restitution Muffins!”