Walking Miles in the Dollar Store

For three hours, I wait. Is patient the word? A friendly face, too soon? Still, when your old you have no time for particulars, need to tell your story to who will listen; and walk miles and miles of aisles in the dollar store where your friend never goes; and you tell her about the rose; and eventually Mary and Martha meet, having never crossed paths before, and probably nevermore this side of heaven; and the painstaking path has been blocked. For three hours I wait to retreat, as my husband texts me - I mean I’m not that far away, yet, time seems to travel. Now, I’m quite familiar with the products sold. I bought a plastic box (for a wig I used for my sister’s party); a yellow, smiley face neck pillow, nail wraps and nonpareils. The jaunt of longsuffering, surely was worth my time; I survived. This was merely the end of a very long day. I’ll not bore you with the unusual beginning. Back home, I stuffed my face and watched a show with my husband. It was after seven. I will see all of this reel as a real blessing and be glad I didn’t stand anyone up.