My Bun is Quick

Edna Adams had invented a novel way of doing her shopping. Instead of relying on the traditional handwritten list, she had designed a simple but effective technique aimed at stimulating her mental health and at the same time improving her memory.

She would look around the house and check out the kitchen cupboards for the items she needed to replenish and then simply remember the number of things she needed to buy.

Riding on the bus into the town centre she would mentally repeat the number of items needed repeatedly and pondered whether to submit her new system to the W.I. for their comments.

She particularly liked days when she required seven items as she believed it was a lucky number in ancient religions. Or so her father had maintained.

Whether that was correct or not, she certainly knew that eleven was an unlucky number as the weight of that many items had led to the demise of several plastic carrier bags before she upgraded to a hessian model.

She was half-tempted with a wheeled shopping trolley, especially the fetching blue tartan versions she often saw being piloted around the town but figured it would be too much hassle on the bus.

Edna made her final preparations for her trip to the supermarket: shopping bag, house keys, bus fare, and of course her library books to be renewed. What would she do without the local library to satisfy her latest curiosity about Eugenics and psychic powers?

This was the font of her new belief system and every Saturday afternoon she trembled with anticipation on the journey to her bibliographic shrine.

Circle. Square. Wave.

Edna mentally ran through the images of her pack of Zener cards. She believed, no, she knew she was making impressive progress with her thought transferring experiments and ESP trials which she constantly tried out on her cat and strangers in the bus queue.

The ride home on the bus had seemed never-ending (despite some promising Psionic experiments), and she struggled up the three flights of stairs to her front door dragging her shopping bags (seven items and four thick books) wearily.

Finally she threw herself down in her armchair with a cup of tea and got down to some serious mind expanding reading.

The next time she looked at the clock on the mantle piece she realised it was about time she prepared her evening meal. It was surprising how much of the day astral traveling could take up!

Now, what should she cook? She wondered as she rose from her chair and made her way into the kitchen where her shopping bag sat on the table.

She unpacked the items. Car window squeegee, light bulb, set of Allen keys, bottle of hair dye (red), toothbrush, shower cap and a puncture repair kit.

There must have been some interference with her chakras, she thought.

Or perhaps she should start her shopping in a different aisle