A rooster crows somewhere and my boyfriend leaves the bunker wearing a bandana over his mouth. Determination in his eyes. He sets out for the weekly collection of sustenance.
Mindless jaunts to the grocery store are over.
Now we devise a list. Now we take that list and categorize it (i.e. PRODUCE: banana babies, carrot cuties). Now we organize the categorized list (we’ve cased the place – enter store, turn left, start with the cookies).
Our mission: No double-backs. Avoid people. Move through the aisles quickly; but, with utmost care. Like a bank robber ballerina evading lasers.
A lawnmower starts up somewhere and I pace the bunker not wearing a bra at mid-day. Roasting chickpeas. Waiting and wringing. I look out the window like a woman anxiously awaiting the return of her lovers ship.