2/21

21Feb08

Dull knives.

Slicing away at a thick carcass.

‘Give me 1/2 a lb. of roast beef.’

‘Yes ma’am.’

He slices.

I roll my eyes.

He slices.

Patience, I remind myself.

He slices.

The same cuts he’s sliced all his butcher life.

And hands me 2/5 of a lb.

I smile politely, and hand him his payment.

And with the rough cut beef in a tiny brown paper bag.

I take my leave, wondering.

Should I have asked for the sharper blade?

Filed under: Thoughts   |  Leave a Comment
Tags: Thoughts, writing