1257. Next year

It was Beryl’s birthday coming up. Grandma Nola went shopping.

“Have you got any of those summer hats that fold up tiny and you can slip into your pocket?” asked Grandma Nola of the shop assistant.

“I’m sorry,” said the shop assistant, “but we’re sold out.”

“That’s alright,” said Grandma Nola. “I’ll shop for it earlier next year.”

“My granddaughter likes to go hiking. Have you got any of those silver blanket things that fold up tiny and you can slip into it and not get hypothermia if you’re lost overnight in the forest?” asked Grandma Nola of the shop assistant.

“I’m sorry,” said the shop assistant, “but we’re sold out.”

“That’s alright,” said Grandma Nola. “I’ll shop for it earlier next year.”

“Have you got any of those things you wind when you want to recharge your cell phone and there’s no power connection? Like when you’re stuck up a mountain and your cellophane’s flat and it’s an emergency,” asked Grandma Nola of the shop assistant.

“I’m sorry,” said the shop assistant, “but we’re sold out.”

“That’s alright,” said Grandma Nola. “I’ll shop for it earlier next year.”

But what Grandma Nola didn’t know was that for her there would be no next year.