Twenty-Six Cents

Twenty-Six Cents

 

jiggling my keys in the 15 Items or Less lane

one milk carton dangling from my fingers.

only one item.

the woman in front of me has seventeen.

bananas. beep. bread. beep. yogurt. beep.

a little girl tugs on the woman’s over-sized sweater

begging for candy, her thumb in her mouth.

nineteen twenty-six, says the cashier.

hurriedly digging through her pocket

the woman pulls out a crumpled ten dollar bill,

a five dollar bill,

four ones,

but no change.

she turns to me, her face weary and worn,

her hair falling over her eyes.

I’m so sorry, she says.

she looks half-crazed.

she continues to search through her pockets,

her expression frantic.

instead of clearing my throat,

or rolling my eyes,

or tapping my foot,

I reach for my wallet, tucked under my arm.

ten cents. fifteen cents. twenty-five cents. twenty-six cents.

without a word, I tap her shoulder

and hold out the two dimes, the nickel, and the penny.

her eyes are wide and brimmed with tears.

she whispers a thank you.

Reviews

[Jetta Zippora]

Lovely vivid write. :)

[kyoung]

Oh my gosh! This just happened to me a few days ago! I didn't have any change on me and a man behind me gave it to me. How strange. I love this part: ". BEEP. bread. BEEP. yogurt. BEEP." That was really neat how you did that. I really enjoyed this poem.