A fresh loaf of bread went in first. Then milk. A small pack of ground beef, a box of cereal, and a tin of soup.
The man kept saying he couldn’t accept it, that it was too much, and that I didn’t have to do this.
I picked up a chocolate bar at the end of the aisle and added it to the basket.
“Everyone needs one sweet thing, Sir!”
The man kept saying he couldn’t accept it.
The man started crying then. Not loudly. Just the quiet kind that comes from somewhere that hasn’t had anything kind happen to it in a long time.
