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A story- no more-.by Sachin

Finally it was Sunday! Amber could finally go to the supermarket and buy the weekly groceries, as well as a few little pocket money toys.

‘Amber darling, take Sharitfa with you to help you,’ mother had purred. Sharitfa wasn’t your typical robot-he would take things literally. For example, when Amber had took him back to the bus stop, she said,

‘Let’s catch the bus arriving at 5:30,’ Sure enough, at five thirty, the bus came to a screeching halt as Sharitfa grabbed it by its bumper!

It was a risk, but at least he could help move the trolley and get the stuff on the REALLY high shelves.

As they entered the store, a warm blast of air went flying in their faces from the overhead heater. Sharitfa looked around, and, when that happened, electric wires buzzed and fizzled.

‘Right, I’ll go upstairs and get all of the hand wash and all of that while you go get the food, ok?’ whispered Amber.

‘ K mode enabled. Starting in 5,4,3,2….’

‘No!!’ cried out Amber. But within her cry, thousands of butternut squashes and lettuces and potatoes were mashed by the burly figure of Sharitfa.

‘Madam,’ said a voice. The elderly woman speaking wore half -moon glasses that made her stern. ‘You’ll be paying for the damage this imbecile makes,’ she replied firmly.

‘I-I’m rreally sorry maam. I’ll p-pay for the the damage,’ Amber stammered.

‘You’d better, or else..or else..’ snarled the lady. Hesitantly, Amber trudged forward and put 8 gold coins in the old hag’s wrinkled hand.

Sharitfa stood up and boomed, ‘Malfunction over. Ready to continue work.’

‘Right, go fetch Beltrix biscuits – they’re in aisle 18,’ Amber spat out.

‘Locating Isle 18- Not Ireland, not Guinea, not Skye nor Lewis and Harris: not Borneo or the Isle of Mull. Not Majorca and DEFINITELY not Isle of Arran. It can’t be Vancouver Island or Islay or Jura or Luzon. How can it be the Hawaiian Islands or Baffin Island? Can’t be Sumatra, North Uist or South Uist. So the 18th is the Ionian Islands!’ exclaimed Sharitfa. And straight after those words, he shot up through the tin ceiling to go to the Ionian Islands to end his quest of obtaining Beltrix biscuits.

‘Nooooooo!!!’ cried Amber. The supermarket was a frenzy of tin falling and smashing and bouquets squashed. Silence. Time seemed to stop.

‘Young girl, out! You will pay every last penny!’ And with that, Amber was flung out, creating a rip in her flower embroidered skirt.

‘Amber darling what happened?’ sobbed mother as she saw her beloved daughter lacquered in dust and dried blood.

‘It’s a long story,’

‘Tell me every last detail,’ mother answered. ‘Oh yes, and where is Sharitfa? He cost a fortune!!’

‘Ummm..’ There were 2 options now- to tell or to lie…

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