Unexpected

The store is too bright.

The hum of the freezer

makes my molars ache.

I hold the grapefruit.

I tilt it under the scanner,

waiting for the beep

that won't come.

The red laser line

lays flat across my thumb.

A thin, red cut of light.

The screen says 'Help is on the way.'

The boy in the apron

is staring at the floor.

I am standing here

with a piece of fruit

and a machine that doesn't

believe in the weight.