The Grocery Line Rescue

My basket was heavy, my patience was thin, and the line was moving slower than glaciers. The man in front of me — older, with a shock of white hair — noticed me shifting the basket from arm to arm.

He said nothing, just nudged his cart back and pointed at it with a small smile, like Here, rest it here for a bit. I laughed, set my basket down, and mouthed “Thank you.”

He just grinned wider, like this tiny act was our private little deal. It didn’t speed up the line, but it made it lighter.