A Euro And A Half

’Do I know you?’ would have been the correct question if I hadn’t first looked at his messy wet eyes.

Without touching any of my items, he, with his trembling hands, carefully placed the box at the edge of the belt.

He whispered something in a language too foreign for me to understand. I nodded and the only thing I could do was a half-smile. He stepped out of line and stood aside in grey with hands folded, waiting. I got the items billed one by one and in the process, I saw the label on his box – 300 grams, possibly food, priced at a euro and a half.

An empty belly makes even an empty pocket fade from concern, leaving only the desire to feed and be fed.

I handed the light bag to the person, and he accepted it with both hands.

With an unaltered expression, he hurried out, and I watched as he vanished into the mild crowd.