Ignorant swine

This, I had not expected during my leisurely trawl down the fruit isle…

You see, in the lane before, I think it was the salad section, or perhaps beside the toiletries, I had spotted an older woman – probably in her mid-seventies, pushing a trolley accompanied by what I assumed was her daughter.

I was at first caught by her body shape; they call this habitus in medicine. Solid, round at the tummy. Then, her hair, thin, lacklustre, silver coming though the brown colouring.

It was however her cheeks that particularly struck me; the skin pale, covered with a thin reticulate pattern of blood vessels, possibly from too much steroid, booze, or, just, time.

As to why she should stand-out from the crowd, I don’t know. Something about her. We didn’t make eye-contact and indeed, all of this happened in a split-second.

It was beside the Braeburns.

I was looking for the loose apples – I prefer those to the ones that are ready-bagged; she was walking towards me and I didn’t react quickly enough.

‘Ignorant swine,’ She said, inferring that my failure to step aside was a bad thing.

I didn’t quite know what to do. I looked-up. Her daughter appeared puzzled also – perhaps surprised by this anger beside the bananas.

I gathered my apples and conference pears, weighed and carried on.

I was hoping to find her, perhaps walk past, to test her, see what would happen, for, by that point I had found the whole thing funny and my Saturday afternoon supermarket face had started smiling.

Each turn, I expected to see her.

Nothing.

Now, thinking back, I wonder if it really happened.