He leaves the plastic cutlass sticking out between two pale puckered chickens. The trolley sails further down the meat aisle, plastic glinting like surf in the strong supermarket lighting.
“Shall I get sausage rolls or cheese and onion ones?” Mum’s shopping for his pirate birthday party. Harry wants an Iron Man party.
As she checks the date on some ham he posts an eight pack of eye patches through the metal bars & watches them drop into a lady’s basket; then sits scowling in the trolley amid the pirate booty hoping he can throw it all overboard before the checkouts.