The Basket

“She should have grabbed a basket, like all of us,” a woman said.

Halfway through the store, the lady’s arms were already full, dropping the crackers, dropping the butter, oh, there goes the taters.  She picked one up, dropped another, but restacked her arms, and hurried on.

“It’s okay, sometimes we all go without a basket,” the other woman said.  

They watched her hopeful survey, the quick turns of her neck down the isles for a forsaken lifeline. There, she saw one. She hurried pass the peas and corn, scooted pass the pasta, shuffled to the spices, and just when she was ready to lose the entire cargo, she dropped it into the basket.  

Another woman comes around the corner, “Hey, what are you doing, that’s my basket!”