Al

Judy had just rounded the frozen pizza when she spotted her husband at the far end of the dairy aisle. They often separated to speed up the grocery shopping. He didn’t know she was watching him as he meandered along. Perhaps it was the lighting or her usual Sunday melancholia, but he had just aged thirty years and looked as though the biggest task in his life was to search out the correct brand of yoghurt. For those brief few seconds he was without her, without anyone. And then the cloud passed and he no longer had his grandfather’s face.