Wherein I take a band name from Scalzi’s Next Band Name list, and spend no more than 20 minutes writing the story with the band name as a title. Current one is Chocolate Suggestion
"Did you get it?" Clark asked.
"Sssssssssh!" Kelly hissed at him.
"Is that a yes?" Clark asked excitedly, his whole body tensing with excitement.
"Shut up!" Kelly responded, then looked around to see if anyone had heard her. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, so she straightened, and looked away from Clark.
"Yes, I have some," she answered stiffly. "But if you keep up with this bouncing, neither of us will have any. So. Stop. Bouncing."
Clark stopped bouncing. He stood stiffly, without moving at all. Kelly looked over at him, saw what he was doing, and rolled her eyes. "Come on..."
She grabbed his arm and pulled him across the square. They entered the stone framed door, and into the quiet, dark shop. Clark eagerly followed her to the side corner of the shop, away from the door. Kelly started looking through her bag.
"You know, it's been a long time," Clark said, as he leaned into Kelly. "I can't remember how long exactly, but it's been a while..." He trailed off as his eyes became vacant.
"Here it is." Kelly handed Clark a small block, wrapped in paper. "You know the cost, right?"
"Yeah, I ..."
"What are you two doing up there?" a male voice boomed at the two of them from the back of the store. "I don't want none of that brown stuff in here! No drugs! Not of any kind! Go! Leave!" The old man started walking out from behind the counter at the far end of the shop. He moved slowly, leaning heavily on his cane as he moved through the store.
Kelly rolled her eyes and grabbed Clark's arm again. "Come on, back outside. Give me my money and we can be done." Clark followed her easily, holding the block up to his face and smelling its contents intensely.
"You know," he said quietly, after they had stepped back into the square, his concentration on the block still next to his nose, his hands pulling out a small wad of cash out of his pocket. He absently handed it to her. "In other countries, they have the real stuff."
Kelly looked up startled from the bills she was counting.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Clark continued, still smelling the paper-wrapped block, "I heard up in Canada, you can get something more than chocolate."
"I would have heard about that."
They stood for a moment, looking at each other.
"If you wanted more than the suggestion the chocolate can give you," Kelly started slowly, "I'd have to go deeper."
Clark looked away, his eyes lingering over the kids playing at the far side of the square, their mothers laughing cheerfully in a group. Kelly paused, then dropped the money into her bag. As she turned to walk away, he spoke again.
"You know the success of the war on drugs took away people's choices of how they could live their lives."
Kelly turned back.
"Maybe, but is the world really worse off for it?"
"Maybe not. Thanks for the chocolate."
Kelly smiled. "You're welcome. Enjoy the chocolate suggestion of a high."
She turned, and walked away.