From the checkout line in the supermarket

Photo by Andrew Lozovyi

I notice the sun duck behind clouds and blue
sky turns gray. I feel the last of winter 

finger its way between the sliding glass
doors as shoppers enter and leave. V8 juice

costs eighteen cents an ounce, my yogurt brand’s
not available and the distilled water shelves empty.

The phone rings. My son wants to borrow the truck.
He’s just back from fly-fishing. Two avocados

run five dollars and fifty cents. He hooked
a fourteen-inch native rainbow trout. I bag 

my groceries to leave the store with one hand
on the phone. He watched fish swim up North

Creek to spawn then beheld an entire school jump
the falls, heading upstream, right under his line.

Molly O’Dell

Molly O’Dell lives in southwest Virginia where she enjoys being out in nature as much as possible. She writes from her experiences and observations as mother, physician, friend, lover, sister, and child. Her published works include Off the Chart, Care is a Four Letter Verb and Unsolicited: 96 Saws and Quips from the Wake of the Pandemic. Website:

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Maximum of 400 words or 2000 characters.

Comments on may be used in the Forum of the print magazine and may be edited for length and clarity.