Quiet Hero

She shuffles to the register

her head, cocked slightly, shakes

The customer, in his sports gear, looks on

irritated, he tries to rush her with his eyes

 

But she’s unmoved – stiff, slow and careful

her quivering hand cradles his produce

she glides it over the scanner gracefully

he searches the ceiling for . . . . . . . . . . . . . mercy?

 

He jams his card in the chip reader

the receipt trembles in mid air

he grabs it from her, forcefully smirks

and mutters as he walks away

 

She doesn’t see this

because she’s smiling and nodding

at the next customer

her rebellious body complies unsteadily

 

for now