Collaborator

The collaborator He and his wife ran a high class grocery shop and I was often outside looking in absorbing rarefied air of middle class living, that was till his wife saw me and shushed me away. War came, the window display got a bit thinner by now there was also a sprinkling of officer of the occupying army. A grocer hear things and it can, if whispered in the right ear, be advantageous. The war ended and the grocer had money to paint his shop in bright colours, which was nice in a war weary, drab little town. Time is an enemy his wife died he displayed her picture amongst Portuguese sardines. And we all came to look. A supermarket opened and we lost interest in a little grocer shop.