34 Weeks Baby Has Low Heart Rate

at checkout tears (1) I need a man


a violet white

(re-repeat)

Here's a little true story from my home-time cashier Auchan

I say hello to the lady. She did not answer. Shopping piled on the treadmill. I took them one by one, the scanner passes, stores them in plastic bags, Seized password, organizers, seized, goes ... I'm tired! Every day, it's the same circus. Sitting on an uncomfortable seat, I dream of my bed. From the bottom of the shopping mall pierces a sunbeam. There is air, an infinity of possibilities. I could sip coffee, sunbathe in my garden, read, get away, a friend would come knocking on my door and we could ...

time this trip, twenty-five customers are gone, have settled their purchases, left, after a bye sir, ma'am or miss delivered mechanically. I tell you I was elsewhere. Ten customers per hour, it's not terrible. A benevolent presence pulled me from my reverie. An old lady that I see for several weeks. We never discussed. It's strange how she came to me. I took it to another, a neighbor. Now she returns, she stood in line, I look. She flees my eyes. I take his articles, then bagged, say hello, how are you? She responds with a broad smile on his face. Yet the smile has something broken. Emotion in his eyes betrayed him. She hands me a trembling hand. The palm of the hand, a small white envelope. This may be a tip and I not allowed. I do not want to disappoint his generous impulse. Her eyes are downcast. I accept the envelope and discreetly hidden under my checks. I can not open it now, I'll wait. I do not know what to say. We smile shyly.



She leaves. A plastic bag on each arm. She has red eyes, turns. Reached the end of the driveway, she turns around again. Is she afraid that I do not open? My thoughts follow it, take him to his bus ride him wear his racing down the stairs, come and discover her apartment, the portraits are displayed, it holding hands, engage in a conversation words counted. It must, however, I come back to me, and continues to work. Customers and are very similar. The discontented, irascible, the brats, the absentee. I'm burning to know what's in the envelope. A quarter of an hour and this is my break.

I open. And there, but a tipping point of ticket writing a handwritten list, "the language of flowers", and at the bottom of the envelope, a violet.


two The episode is

here, and three
is there
.