Page 177 - Anonymous

"Anytime," I say as I watch her

walk to the front of the store to get a

bigger trolley and deposit the girl named

Willow in it. Sin wannabe returns to her

basket, which is filled with fresh produce

and empties the contents into the bigger

trolley. She turns to me again and waves.

I wave back and return to my tasks.

And so I begin to wonder if it is

time.

To get reacquainted.