Sale Day (fiction piece)

Hi, all! Today I'm here with a short fiction piece! Hope you enjoy! -Kirstie
Mr. Coleman bustled around the now quiet shop, pulling out things from the shelves, putting other things back, straightening here and there.
Perspiration running down his brow, he glanced at the clock. Sighing with relief, he slowed his efforts. He still had half an hour.

Finishing the preparations, he sat behind the counter with a newspaper, scanning the everyday news. He tapped his foot as he read, unable to keep glancing back up at the clock.
A knock interrupted his fidgeting. Mr. Coleman started, glancing at the clock again before hurrying to the door. Who could be so early?
Opening the door he greeted the lady standing there.
“Oh, ms. Allen, have you come for the sale?” He sighed, how could he have forgotten?
She cheerily replied, “I always do, and you so graciously let me come early.”
Mr. Coleman nodded as he held the door open. She bustled in, beaming at the orderly shelves. He watched as she made her way to each shelf, picking what she wanted, carefully putting back what she wasn’t going to buy, much to his relief. Ms. Allen made her way to the counter just as the clock struck the hour. Her purchases were bought and packaged just as the first droves of customers came. He smiled at them as they greeted him in passing,intent on finding something to buy. The hours flew by, Mr. Coleman's mood went down, and perspiration still gathered on his face. His jaw tightened as another customer dispute erupted.
He stalked over to find a young lady being shouted at by an older woman.
“That is rightfully mine!” She said, pointing to another material the young lady held.
Mr. Coleman interjected. “Ladies, I believe Ms. Wilson had been looking at this material before you came up, Mrs. Miller.”
Mrs. Miller stood in affronted silence.
“I do intend to buy some of it, Mrs. Miller.” She agreed.
Mrs. Miller spluttered and clinched her fists, glaring. “Well, I, never…” With that she turned and stomped off, muttering as she went, drawing a few stares.
With a sigh, Mr. Coleman turned back to Ms. Wilson, with a pleasant smile. “How much would you like?”
The rest of the day passed without major incident. The last of the customers left his shop just short of closing time. Mr. Coleman closed the door and locked it with a triumphant flourish. Turning back, he looked at the piles of everything he hadn’t sold. He sat heavily in a nearby chair and groaned. He shrugged and got back up.
“That’s work for another day.”

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