I’m at Trader Joe’s buying groceries for the week, and the free-sample counter has little plastic cups of cornbread with corn-chile salsa. I take one. Nearby an employee is talking to an older woman and he suddenly drops his voice as I grab my second sample, as if they were just talking in secret about someone and then the employee caught sight of this person out of the corner of his eye. They both turn and look at me as I pop the cup of cornbread into my mouth like a Jell-O shot.
Originally published as “The Routine,” April 2019 in The Sun.
Wonderful story–I don’t read some stories to the end because I don’t care enough to take the whole trip. But this morning I just sat down–in the middle of the morning!–and read your story. And even more unusual, I am writing to tell you so. Thanks!
Jacob Aiello 
Wonderful story–I don’t read some stories to the end because I don’t care enough to take the whole trip. But this morning I just sat down–in the middle of the morning!–and read your story. And even more unusual, I am writing to tell you so. Thanks!
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Thank you so much for reading, Rachel! I’m humbled!
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This was good, too.
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