I should have just picked another cart. There were several there, in the front of the store, waiting,
sheep like by the twin
front doors. Parked in the little cart hopper. I could have just picked up the scrap of paper (half a sheet, torn,
off white, with little red lines) and thrown it in the trashcan. It was on my way to the vegetables: just grab, crumple and throw. But, I didn't. It's not my nature I guess.
So I picked it up, and read the front:
eggs
butter
paper towels
wine
creamer
and a word on the tear line that looked like ...cer cereal?
then I turned the paper over:
and it's too much for me, really. I can't have you darting in and out and taking things. My food, my couch, my breath. You need to consider consequences. It might be best if you didn't come 'round for a bit. Call me Saturd
I stood still, stuck in the aisle between Oranges and Pre bagged Lettuce. And looked around the store at the innocent shoppers; the quiet lives out in public. Would they be shocked if I read their list? Would they regret leaving it behind?