The Slice

Things left unsaid

Yesterday at around noon, I walked to a grocery store about a mile from home.

I bought some Brown Cow yogurt, apple juice boxes and frozen raspberries. But mostly the outing was an excuse to get some exercise that wasn't bike-riding.

After paying the cashier, the girl who had put my purchases in the bag I brought from home asked if I wanted her to carry it for me.

I told her no, of course. But on my way out of the store, I had a thought.

If I had let her carry my bag and then started walking back home without saying anything, how long would it have taken her to speak up?

"Uh, sir, where's your car?"

"My car? It's in my garage at home. Why do you ask?"




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The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.






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