The Packer [Short Story]

Tinned food first. A small box of cereal. No milk? A tomato, a bag of apples and three potatoes. Bread rolls on top. She glanced in my direction and I smiled, but she looked past me, an anxious look on her face. I didn't recognise her face or her hands. New to the neighbourhood, or just passing through? She took her card from the machine, "keep the slip". I watched her rush past me and out the door, leaving a fading scent of something light and floral but no other sign that she had ever been there. 

After her, a man well into his thirties with a young boy at his side. The boy met my eye and gave a shy smile. The man hadn't noticed me yet. This is my anti-plagiarism sentence. The scanner beeped, the items moved in my direction. Baby formula. Pasta. Bread. Bacon. Dishwashing liquid. Cheese. Peanut butter. Two chocolate bars. I glanced up. They don't seem rushed. He's wearing a wedding ring; he's not at work. Stay-at-home father? 

I grabbed three bags for the couple after them. Laundry liquid. Bread. Bovril. A large bag of dog food. Bulk toilet paper. Boxes of long-life milk. Soap... Bulk items, on special. They both greeted me and I smiled. The packing was taking longer than the scanning and the counter was filling up; the man took one of the bags and joined me in packing items in. Heavy below, light on top. They seem nice, but their eyes are tired. As he turned to swipe his card, I reached into my pocket and quietly added a folded hundred bill to one of their bags.
"Have a nice day".

The next lady seemed distracted, like there was a shadow behind her eyes. Is she sad? She greeted the cashier quietly, and nodded at me, before looking down at her hands. Hardworking hands. Worn. No time for nail polish or hand cream. The scanner beeped. Instant noodles. A bag of potatoes. Grandpa powders. A local newspaper. Again my hand slipped into my pocket and brought up a secret gift. She forced a feint smile as I handed her the bag.
"Have a nice day".

As I watched her leave the store, the security guard caught my eye. His eyebrows narrowed as he moved towards me. 
"Again?! Don't make me call the manager."
I put my hands up in defeat. "I know, I know. I'm leaving". 

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I write short stories about life from the perspective of others. And sometimes from my perspective too. Your tips keep me writing and progressing - thank you <3

Join me on noise.cash: MightyTalon
Join me on publish0x: MightyTalon

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I first published this short story on my Publish0x blog: One Day. Copyright belongs to me. All rights reserved.

Image by pexels user mitchel3uo.