Living Alone by H. Donald Cabinet

Uncomfortable in just a t-shirt and shorts. An empty basket somehow heavy. Holding a block of sharp cheddar close to my bespectacled face, I assure myself of the legitimacy of this particular dairy cooperative. I fondle the fresh produce, feigning comprehension and appreciation. I gaze at shingles of carved fish behind glass. They gaze back. In the personal hygiene isle, I remember--with a sigh--the list that I had assembled at work, now resting on the kitchen table at home. Futile.