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A Diary |
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written
by sunyuh / 09.30.2005 |
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| Your Shopping Diary |
1 of 1 |
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Assignment |
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In the field of flowers no one talks to me. But the silence is not cold. I buy grapes and turn around. She whistles and points at the brown paper bag. They are not sweet; they have seed. I would’ve bought them purple if they had seeds. I turn around again and thank her. She just smiles and turns away. The market can be more crowded, but the space is nice. I walk across and point at the walnuts and he leads me to this man. He points for me to stay and gives me a piece of meat to try. He doesn’t want me to buy it, it isn’t that kind of a sample, but perhaps he thinks I may return, wants me to return. The meat is thin and pale. The walnuts like my grapes aren’t sweet. But I like the man already and we smile. I feel like a small child.
This is my kind of a world because she’s walking quickly with her yellow shopping bag, pushing people out of the way. In her other hand is the small fingers of her daughter, maybe five, maybe six. She is laced in pink rollar-blading gear—in every possible anti-damage equipment. She cannot skate and the crowd is impatient. They wiz by. You see them. You don’t see them. The little girl is dragged behind, she cannot skate. She is twisting and turning but they are in a hurry. Four peaches and a bag of red grapes—you don’t see them.
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