Supermarkets
There is something I like about supermarkets. The sweet nuances of a father and his young daughter as she picks out her favorite Popsicle. Or the woman behind the espresso machine, with kind eyes and a shy way of commiserating about the weather and early hour of your arrival. The sweetness in an older gentleman picking up a bouquet of daisies and placing them lighting in the basket. The comfort of a good greeting card aisle and the warm salty smell of bread. The excitement of a large stack of free, local publications outside the door. The simple routine in people of the neighborhood grabbing ingredients for dinner for their waiting family. In the vibrant produce stand and the way the water droplets slide down the smooth skin.
