I forgot you at a bus stop.

We’d been to the grocer’s and had been waiting for fifteen minutes. I got us angel hair pasta. I was going to make pomodorina sauce.

I left my card at the store. Damnit. I had to go back. It was only across the street. I let three cars go by on the one side and lingered at the centre line for another three in the other direction.

I scuttled through the rain and pushed open the door. The bell at the top made a tinkling sound. The shopkeeper gave me a nod and held up my credit card. With flustered relief, I thanked him, and quickly checked that the bus was not about to arrive. “Parmesan.” I exhaled.

Parmesan. I can’t believe I nearly forgot you.