THE SUPERMARKET
A heavyset man with a few days’ growth on his face holds a heavy basket in line at the register. After a minute, “Next customer,” states the teenager behind the conveyor. The man shuffles forward and unloads his items onto the edge of the belt. Moments pass, then, “Next customer.” The man mutters an acknowledgment, fumbling his credit card out of his wallet. The teenager greets him back, and starts scanning items, occasionally keying in the codes for various produce. The man’s gaze, bored, waiting, settles on the monitor displaying each line item of the sale.
Pacific-soup Tom 3.99 PLU-4011 .79/lb 1.66 Human-liver 6.99
The man’s eyes widen and he stares at what was just scanned. A box of cereal. He turns back to the monitor.
Cereal Frosted-F 3.89
The man squeezes the bridge of his nose, and shakes his head a few times.
Infant-Giblets 8.50 Intestine-Assorte 1.14/lb 6.27
The man jarringly turns his back to the monitor. The teenager gives him a strange look, and resumes scanning. Outside the supermarket, the fresh air clears the man’s head. He begins to feel right again, and by the time he’s back in his car, he has convinced himself that he must simply be exhausted. Later, at home, he unpacks his groceries. He reaches his hand into the first shopping bag, and inside is a pile of something wet and warm.