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
Kismet 