Inventory by Local Emergency
Worms by the Milk
A tub of bait in the door cooler of a convenience store, kept cold next to the dairy because the lake is close and someone always forgets theirs.
Inventory by Local Emergency
A tub of bait in the door cooler of a convenience store, kept cold next to the dairy because the lake is close and someone always forgets theirs.
Inventory by Local Emergency
One roll of duct tape on a mostly empty pegboard hook, priced above town, bought anyway because the thing is broken now and here is where you are.
Inventory by Local Emergency
The scratch tickets under the counter glass — the one thing in a practical store that sells hope instead of use.
Inventory by Local Emergency
A pie under a plastic dome by the register of a convenience store — the one item that isn't for anything broken, unless wanting counts.
Inventory by Local Emergency
A small box of Tylenol on a shelf between the batteries and the bug spray, marked up because the nearest pharmacy is an hour off and a headache doesn't wait for town.
Inventory by Local Emergency
A stack of windshield washer fluid by the door, blue in the jug, bought in the season the roads throw grit and salt at the glass.