How you doing?,” she says as she places her items on the counter.
I stare back at her. I’m tempted to tell her about the fifteen year old car that broke down for the second time this week. Or that I’m going on my seventh month of being alone after the most painful break-up I’ve ever had. Perhaps I could mention how strange its been to see how my memories of the world I grew up in have become so yellowed with age to others. I could mention all of this and more.
But I know what you are really waiting for.
“I’m ok.”
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