by Brittney Duncan

“Hi there,
     how are y--”
“I’ll have a Diet Coke.”
Show your teeth,
“Be right back.”
 
Busted soda fountain
drips
plink--
 
plink--
morphine IV bag slow.
 
Sharp inhale, 
shoulders spring 
up to ears -
a hand at your back,
 
“Little jumpy today?”
“Sorry.
     Just tired.”
 
Three steps and
squuiit--
ketchup packet underfoot
 
plat--
plat--
scarlet footprints in your wake
 
Mirror by the muffins and a
grubby toddler points,
mouths
“I
seeeeeee
you.”
 
swallow. smile.
 
One o’clock,
the pulse slows,
ketchup stains coagulate
on the tile.
 
“She’s going to die.”
 
“I’msorrywhat?”
 
Painted lips purse,
plucked brows raise a question,
 
“I said you forgot my fries.”
 
Cheekbones burn -
“Be right back.”