heartbeat city

Signs of life show up in strange places, like the counter of the neighborhood grocer, where I’ve gone to get a chicken quite a few times this week, and never before.

You go without knowing you’ll get one. They are the juiciest, and my neighbors know. When they’re gone, they’re gone.  The doors close at eight sharp. The cashier slash chicken handler smiles through the bad news.

But when they are not gone. When you get the last of the juicy chickens! It is a thrill. The lasts of things are hard to find these days.