The Cost of Living

A faceless man is standing in produce. He’s crying. No one stops. No one asks him why. He says the sky is falling He says it again and again. He grabs a passerby’s arm and tell them it’s falling. The passerby drops a head of lettuce onto the floor. A woman in tattered jeans says the cost of meat has gone up. A young mother with a baby in the basket wheels a cart of formula and wonders how anyone can afford to live while outside a boy in high school races an empty shopping cart through the parking lot. A woman with stringy, long hair standing near the entrance plays guitar and the case is open for dollar bills and quarters. A weary clerk brings in a line of carts and says the task never ends. The woman says life’s a show— Bring in the clowns, she sings. Displays of Doritos lined up by the entrance say buy more— one bag is never enough. The clerk stands near the front and keeps his hands in his pockets as he watches a wave of humanity walks in and out the entrance. The manager looks at him. Smile, she says. One month after his lady friend transferred to another store he is standing alone in a crowd.