We, my mother and I, had just climbed out of our little green Nissan.
We walked into the store. Its layout was unlike any place I had ever been. Not that it was particularly bizarre. Just noteworthy that it was foreign to me. I had expected some semblance of familiarity upon entering.
The walls were filled with things I didn’t recognize. The entire floor was bare except for a large (you could swim in it, though I would rather swim with sharks) wire bin in the middle of the store. Within it existed the only thing in the store I knew. I found no comfort in their familiarity.