pickles

As I spotted the jar of chili cornichon pickles at the supermarket, I let out a gasp and my heart began to race. Pickles...with chili!

After getting home, I snatched the pickle jar out its prison and carelessly tossed the grocery bag, still filled with less desirable contents, aside. 

 

AT LAST! I thought, as I emphatically twisted the lid. The lid, however, would not give. I put my whole body into it, and still, it would not give. I shouted at and berated the jar, and still it would not give. I bargained with the jar, offering jewels and fortunes beyond its wildest dreams, and still it would not give. I weakly reasoned with the jar, but still, it would not give. 

 

I threw my head back and screamed "PICKLEEEEEESSSSS!!! I JUST WANT PICKLES!!!!" 

 

At last, with weakened knuckles and aching palms, I admitted defeat and slowly put the jar down, stifling a silent wish that a miracle would be bestowed upon this jar during its journey down to the countertop. It was not. I gave the jar one last longing glace and walked away into the sunset.