Momenta

While the cashier slid his groceries across the scanner, Fox let his mind drift.

When the shopping cart bumped his back, he turned, a snarl already snapping at his lips. But he sheathed it when he saw the stooped old woman, apologetic eyes just above the cart. He bobbed his head in acceptance, and shifted over. But then moved back, and asked if the woman would like help unloading her cart.

Her eyes dried, and a smile cracked her wrinkled face.

A car, surging out of a narrow alley, stopped short. Fox shifted his bags to the other arm, continued.

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