#206

it's near the back of the store, not really "tucked" into anywhere, but set back behind all the innocent bottles. aspirin, allergy medicine, cough drops. behind all that is a line of women and men and they all look tired, but in different ways, and his mind raced, "who here is scared?" some approach the counter with a bit of hesitation. you can tell who has been coming here for years. you can see who is grasping their doctor's note in a white knuckled hand like a first time traveler clutching a brand new passport.
the pharmacist is bored, checking her hair for split ends and waiting for the credit card machine to run.
he steps up when she asks can she help whoever is next and she cracks her gum but doesn't flinch at what his card says. he wants to tell her how a neighbor man taught him to ride a bike when he was ten. he wants to tell her how he doesn't mind this abnormally hot summer so much. he wants to ask her who she would visit first, if the words on that paper belonged to her.