73. Dum. De de dum. De de dum.
De dum de dum de dum de dum.
Woke up on the beach again. The sea was still calm, but the sun was already angry.
I needed water. Maybe a few snacks, too. So headed to the █████. I love foreign supermarkets. They’re familiar, but somehow wrong.
When I got to the entrance, a middle-aged white guy caught my eye. He was walking towards the exit, wearing big white sunglasses and a black AC/DC tee. Bet he’d never seen them live.
As he approached, we both adjusted our steps at the same time. Left. Right. Shuffle. Little giggle. That polite dance people do, followed by flustered hesitation and a life-flashing micro-panic.
We made eye contact. Then stepped in the same direction again. Irritating. Decided I hated him. Everything about him was off. Lost. Grim. He gripped a tatty plastic bag full of empty bottles.
Still in my way, I stood my ground. People like him will keep stepping aside forever. Some of us don’t wait to be moved, we’re already moving. Living by the sea. Letting life breathe around us.
Could see him trying to decide whether to go left or right, like the choice said something about him. Everyone knew which way he’d end up going. He made a show of it anyway, then second-guessed himself.
I stayed put, watching. There’s a confidence that comes from not needing to perform. Knowing the shape of yourself in the world. Living a life slightly out of sync with the instructions.
He held up a hand at me. In warning? I could see tiny cracks of light escaping from his head. I think he was pleading with me to get out of the way. I’d had enough, and walked towards the door. Gripping my plastic bag.
next: 74. Vindication in Pastry
previous: 72. Seasons Greetings from █████████