The Deli Counter

Deli counter
Photo by Thanos Pal on Unsplash

On Christmas Day, I made up my mind to shit myself. I did it before New Year’s Eve. The Tesco on Park Road, 3PM on a Wednesday. My aim was, predictably, freedom. To escape nervousness by being my very worst. The marbled floor shone in confluence with the strip lights. I made eye contact with the beautiful boy behind the deli counter. He carved gouda so thin with the taut wire that I could see his electric blue aura through it. In that flick of gaze he told me not to. I looked through him to the last sedate moments of a lobster on ice.

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