Wednesday June

Her gaze broke the heart of the supermarket shelf.
The aubergine visibly shrank and the spinach flinched.
The aubergine's purple lustre winked gorgeous against the spinach's iron-rich green.
She was testing the quality of the produce assiduously, fondling it like a lost lover. Starkly mimicing the movements of a burly housewife whose been doing it for years.
Her eyes swallowed and gouged like a starving animal.
Her hands and eyes doing what her mouth couldn't, wouldn't and hadn't.
Why didn't anyone hold her, why could no-one see.
All alone she stood in the aisle.
So terribly alone her frailty was as fragile as fading blooms and broke the hearts of the giants around her.
A sickly alien drained of movement, rhythm and sound she stood.
All around her: 'water, water everywhere but not a drop for her to drink'.
by Cromerty Sole