Posted in art, poetry, writing

Grocery Store

Grocery Store  I lived alone for three months in a new city, didn’t know a soul.  Every day I’d walk a mile to the grocery store, spend twenty minutes deciding which vegan cookie to buy and walk back.  Sometimes it was Starbucks or the farmer’s market in Studio City.  Or drive to Santa Monica to buy my cookie at a bakery and drive back to what I called home. Once it was a restaurant and I walked three miles in the smog to get there.   I never cried in those three months. It’s only now, years later, when I go to the grocery store alone that the sadness shows. Maybe it’s the guilt of all those cookies piled up on my thighs, the leftovers of a time not quite forgotten or maybe it’s that I didn’t expect the loneliness to last.

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