meiko

I go to the grocery store with my list.

Old people talking to themselves.

One man in particular (who always seems to be there) tells war stories to the canned tomatoes.

A Missy Higgins song is playing on the loud speaker.

They are out of oregano. Shit.

Milk, cereal, eggs, raisin bread, pasta, bananas, done.

The lady checking me out doesn’t look me in the eye.

The bag girl only has one eye…

She looks at me.

I choose paper over plastic. Always.

The End.