My first day back at work after our holiday and I am glad I am back. So with no further ado, I go and lean against the back of our sofa and listen:
Lean against… and listen
I quote Kasey Mathews from the WANA group “Write to heal” for this writing prompt:
“With paper and pen, or computer handy, lean back in your chair, or against the wall, or a sofa etc., close your eyes and imagine you are sitting under a large tree with your back resting against the trunk. On the other side of the tree, a Storyteller has come to sit down and also rest against the tree trunk. With eyes still closed, just listen. Wait for the Storyteller to begin his or her story. When you hear it begin, simply write down all that you hear. “
The elderly lady stood there a little lost.
I watched her look along the wicker baskets full of different sorts of rolls and continental bread. Her white hair neatly tucked under a flowery scarf which gave contrast to her plain navy cardigan.
My eyes turned back to the metal basket beside me full of wholemeal bread that needed slicing. I took one of the longer ones and carefully placed it in the slicing machine. The button (it is not really a button rather an elevation on the plastic surrounded by shiny metal) did not work at first. I had to press it again and the machine made a nerve-wracking noise pushing the bread towards the many knives rushing up and down.
The wholemeal bread fell out on the shiny tray. I grabbed it and put it on the metal arm coming from the machine up on the left where I could hold it until I got the plastic bag over it.
When I looked to the left for the sticker from the labelling machine I saw her still standing there. So I left my safe place behind all the racks full of bread and approached her:
“Hello, can I help you?”
She looked a little shocked. Her light blue eyes sparkling though: “Oh, no I am fine. Just looking for the polish bloomer.”
“I am afraid they look different now. We do not bake them ourselves anymore. Let’s see!” I looked along the bottom line of wicker baskets and found the polish bloomer.
“See here? That is how they look now!” I took one of the bags and showed it to her.
“Oh, thank you so much. You know I do not like white bread. And the wholemeal is too rough. But this is nice!” She said to me while she took the bread from my hand.
I smiled:” I know. This is rye bread and we do not have a lot of those. It’s soft but not as “empty” as the white bread.” The elderly lady giggled like a little girl. “ “Empty” bread!” she said. “That is exactly how it is. Thank you very much for your help!”
“You are very welcome” I answered her but she had already turned and walked briskly down the aisle towards the checkouts. Her flowery scarf vanishing in the black and grey of the other shoppers.