So.....
I am standing in the queue
Hoping the lady scanning the groceries is in a good mood.
She's tapping her foot against the hem of her chair so she must be.
I imagine she's tired.
Tired of the self absorbed and persistent existence of people coming by.
She is without a doubt a tired woman.
Her hands automatic, her smile...not so much
But she's trying.
Laundry on the line. God I hope it doesn't rain.
Lease on the line. God I hope it doesn't stain.
Pain in her right shoulder. God make it go away.
But it doesn't.
Like that spot on the right sofa cushion.
She's just not comfortable with the fact that its there.
He is standing behind me.
Heaving.
Not sure why he is agitated but its making me agitated.
It actually making me angry.
The fringe of his loaf of brown un-sliced bread
Grazes the back of my elbow and I can't help but be offended.
So rustle up a tornado of hate in my throat.
The anger gashing silently beneath my tongue.
Next customer please....
She's not in a good mood.
I don't like the way she dragged the tomatoes across the counter.
She's tired.
He's not standing behind me.
He's moved to another queue.
He's not agitated. He's late.
And I forgot to buy chicken livers.
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