|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
|
a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
|
![]() 10:17 PM I wear ripped jeans, cuffed at the ankles, that sway with each step along these glossed linoleum floors. Crackling music falls
through the intercoms. I feel my heart beat with the static rhythms, pulsing against my ribs. One step, two steps, three steps I stand in front of the refrigerated milk. An elongated face peers at me, I wonder who it belongs to. 10:31 PM I make eye contact with the girl across the aisle. She picks up mustard and sets it back down. She squints at me, or smiles I can't tell and snaps the elastic against her ear. She waltzes down the corridor, letting her fingers linger on the mayonnaise and relish. She reaches the end, turns right, and quickly disappears from view. 10:42 PM A boy tugs at his mother’s sleeve, motioning to his face. She shushes him, pulling the mask up along the bridge of his nose. They walk towards the fruit. A stack of apples obstructs them from sight, revealing only muddy sneakers. The music is interrupted: “twenty minutes until closing.” They hastily shove tangerines into their pockets before scurrying away. 10:53 PM Cashier number nine I place my items on the conveyor belt, and watch as they are snatched by slender, pasty hands. His glasses fog with each heavy exhale. I can’t see the crinkle of his eyes, he is nothing but a pale figure. “$30.85” The coins fall into his hand, nestling into the grooves of his palm. We nod at each other before parting ways. Comments are closed.
|
Categories
All
* = Editors' Choice work
Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
October 2023
|