Thursday, 22 May 2014


A picture says a thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about this picture.
Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!

Image Source:
His head tilted to the side. The lights behind him bright and out of focus. His eyes looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
She blinked at him and tried to focus on his face. She couldn’t seem to see the man who was speaking and she stood, uncertainly, at the end of the supermarket cashier’s counter.
“You?” he checked. “Are you okay?” His hand reached out as if he wanted to touch her but didn’t.
He didn’t know her; he was just concerned.
She couldn’t seem to speak to answer him; just gaped at him, open mouthed.
He held up the plastic shopping bag. “You left this behind.”
“Oh.” Staring at it blankly, she still didn’t take it.
“It was yours?” He was starting to think he might have made a mistake.
“Yes. We needed milk.” For the first time she looked up at him. “My mother died this morning... but we needed milk... someone had to buy the milk.”
He took a breath and then nodded. He did not say he was sorry for her loss; it seemed inappropriate. He wasn’t sorry about her mother, but he was obviously concerned for her. “Are you okay to drive home?”
She nodded. “I g-got here.” Although she didn’t remember doing it; not block by block.
She noticed his wedding ring when he reached into his pocket. He handed her a name card. “Please... I know that you don’t know me, but call me when you get home.”
She stared down at the card. “Do I look like I won’t make it?”
“You look... like you’re in shock. I’d drive your car myself if my wife was here to follow us.”
“Oh.” She stared at the card again. “Okay.”
She had turned to go when he called out to her but she had already started to turn back.
“The groceries.” They both said it at the same time.
“Thank you.” A pause. “I’ll call,” she promised.
As she placed her groceries in the car, she felt a small ray of hope. There were people in the world who were nice. She had never particularly liked that word before but she was glad to be the recipient of some kind thoughts today; a small moment of concern from a fellow human being with no other agenda.
Shutting the car trunk, she thought she could get through this day. And then the next... and then the one after that.
And she wouldn’t forget to call.
© AM Gray 2014

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