She picked out several onions and set them in the scale. Not because she wanted to know their weight. It was a place to keep them as she finished her selection. A bag of carrots, and a head of cabbage. No particular meal was being planned. Unaware she was being watched she continued to the register. The line was short, but the basket loaded full. Waiting wasn't a big deal, a chance to collect thoughts or daydream. It felt like wind, and she tasted dust. She heard a growl. Not an animal noise but the sound made in a human throat. She looked around to determine who was making the strange vocalization. No one was nearby. Her hands began to cramp holding the vegetables. They began to feel heavy. If she could set them down somewhere for a moment. Instead she cradled them on her arms like carrying a baby. Little vegetable babies. Her mind wandering: a head of cabbage, she thought how strange it's called a head. Looking down at her vegetable babies she thought about chopping them into pieces. Noticing the taste of dirt again, she ended her morbid chain of thoughts. She was able to set her produce on the conveyor belt and pay.
It's not what you think it's what you believe. Patricia '96
No comments:
Post a Comment