The Endless Checkout - Part 2: First Loop

Marissa pulled the key out of her car's ignition as soon as she arrived home, still pondering the odd sensation she had felt when she left GreenLeaf Grocers. She shrugged it off as fatigue, while undoing her seatbelt. The door handle clicked as she began to get out of the car, thoughts already drifting to the evening ahead.

But as she set one foot outside of her car, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over her. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurring and refocusing in disorienting waves. The next moment, she found herself not in her car, but standing with a jolt back at the entrance of the grocery store, her empty shopping cart in front of her.

For a second, Marissa just stood there, disoriented and confused. The familiar jingle of the entrance bell rang in her ears. Hadn’t she just left? Her heart started to race, a cold sweat breaking out on her brow.

Glancing around, the store looked exactly as it had when she first arrived – same soft afternoon light, same bustling shoppers. The sense of deja vu was overwhelming. She remembered checking out, remembered loading groceries into her car, remembered arriving back home. Yet here she was, at the start again, with no memory of returning.

Attempting to calm her racing thoughts, Marissa decided to retrace her steps. She pushed the cart forward, her movements now tinged with hesitancy. She glanced at the produce section; the bananas and avocados were back in their places, untouched. A chill ran down her spine.

As she moved through the store, everything seemed eerily replicated from her previous visit. There was Jerry at the deli, cracking the same joke to a customer, and Miss Tamara, dusting flour off her apron in the same way as before.

Marissa’s unease grew with each step. She tried to convince herself it was a trick of the mind, a momentary lapse. Yet, the precise repetition was uncanny. She reached for her phone to check the time, but the screen displayed the same time as when she’d first entered the store.

The announcement about the ground beef sale crackled over the PA system, identical to before. Marissa's hands trembled slightly as she picked up a carton of ice cream from the same spot in the freezer, the cold feeling sharper, more pronounced.

At the checkout, the line was short again, and the same young cashier was there, his eyes meeting hers with that same, unnerving depth. The rhythmic beep of the scanner seemed louder this time, more insistent. Marissa paid, her movements robotic, her mind racing.

As she exited the store, the bell chimed, and the sunlight outside seemed just a fraction dimmer than before. This time, she paused, looking back at the store with a growing sense of dread. Something was very wrong.

Her groceries, once again in her cart, felt like tangible proof of a reality she couldn’t understand. The normalcy of the scene around her clashed violently with the surreal experience she was undergoing.

With a heavy sense of apprehension, Marissa pushed her cart to her car, loaded her groceries, and got in. As she started the engine, a part of her feared what might happen next. Would she find herself back at the store entrance once more? The possibility hung in the air, a threatening specter over her routine existence.

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