All morning it would not leave. And in the evening it would leave neither. At the grocery store I would not turn to look at the woman checking out in front of me. I thought I knew her. I did not know her. Two checkouts stood manned but empty. I had turned into the first one without looking. A team of women came to help. One flashed a shy smile. I am eating the peaches I got there. In the mirror I think of my fat cousin. It is luck. Most is luck. Our cars parked next to each other. In the front seat texting. Someone’s blonde, I thought, but that’s unfair, she could have been a student. It smelled of cow manure. Trucks rolled down the highway. Imagined, briefly, the cashier shyly smiling: what it would be like to date a teenager. Band posters. Always explaining yourself, like a cut under your eye, wincing as you tell it. Only flesh but what is flesh. It is luck. Now this woman. I rolled down my windows. I looked into the other car. She put her phone down. She drove away.

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