It stood there looking at me, It was a supermarket.
The one that was there since I was a kid.
It's windows were as long narrow eyes.
I stood there in the parking lot. As cars drove in and competed for the illusive remaining spots.
The odd teen in his uniform carrying cardboard boxes to the depot. This one would walk with his head down, burdened somehow, clumsy long strides as if being obligated.
There by the trolley bay, an older retired woman took her shopping trolley in both hands and shoved it forward walking into the push with obvious effort.
The automatic door opens and she's through. The deli lights shooting out like some alien ship enveloping her. Through the window I see her walking toward one aisle, but she is not going for just any product, she has seen her neighbor there. They mirror each other's smiles and make a sound almost like one made before a new born. that extended "ooohhhhh".
A younger woman is setting up a small booth, she will be sharing out samples of jams. She looks out of place with her white hairnet, apron and gloves, almost a nurse, not quite there, Her own face looks like she has tasted something bitter, probably because the plastic podium is not holding up properly.
A family comes banging and crashing over the footpath with husband and wife letting their eight year old push the trolley. The colgate moment, a second before the automatic doors open as husband looks, smiles and nods to his wife, his wife responding with the same gestures, cute choreography.
The supermarket just stared at me, as if it had not consented to all of these people running in and out of it. And sadly enough inside the supermarket, some of it's habitants were enjoying the peak of their day.
So I winked at the window. But it didn't wink back.
