The farmer’s market booth selling strawberry jam is always busy.
(You’ve never had jam until you’ve tried this strawberry jam!)

In the line ten people stand.
Three are struggling and scrambling like newborn kangaroos inching their long way towards a mother’s pouch.
Three are moaning and ready to leave the line without their chard and go home to watch TV.
Three more are talking on their cel phones while their children are listlessly gumming on nearby fire hydrants.
Only one stands breathing, listening to and feeling the farmer’s market.

She is thankful for the longawaited strawberry jam that she does not end up getting to enjoy on toast.
She is peaceful at the site of her bicycle accident. Both life and death are beautifully surprising to her.

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