Bryan scowled as he locked up his home and shuffled to his car. This set-back likely meant many days of shuttered solitude as he deciphered the conundrum that halted his entire plan. He needed to restock his fridge, as he had purposely emptied it in preparation.
His thoughts proved to be focused on anything but the road as he drove, nearly passing a stop sign and then screeching to a halt when an elderly woman suddenly crossed the street. She shouted ornery cries of anger at him while he sped away, barely bothering to grumble in response. Around the next turn, Bryan caught sight of his destination, ""Samson's Super Market."
The tall steel sign alone spoke volumes of the establishments age. Built in the 1960s, when Bryan had been a child, the market boasted to be the "largest stop for your modern grocery convenience". It remained largely unchanged since then, almost to the point of disrepair. Cracked asphalt, weathered paint, and even the shopping carts looked to be at least three decades old. The interior was a similar story, albeit cleaner and with somewhat updated fittings.
Tired, groggy, and on-edge, Bryan parked his car, avoiding stray shopping carts and roughly bumping over an uneven slab of asphalt. His vision blurred a bit when he stepped out of the car.
"Coffee, I'll need plenty of coffee..." He noted with a scratch to his head. His head was swimming.
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