O ruined piece of nature, this great world
Shall so wear out to naught.
— King Lear, Act IV
She is savouring her second coffee of the morning. While she sips, her eyes scan the news headlines on her phone. A movement in the garden beyond the glass doors catches her eye. Shafts of sunlight illuminate the pots of annuals they have carefully ceded in the small, private space; bright geraniums, purple pansies, dipladenias and red spikey things she can’t remember the name of. A dragonfly hovers over pink blossoms, and a second one joins it, silently quivering in space. As though unsure of their landing, they alight tentatively and then rise again quickly, darting away. Two thieving squirrels, fattened with raspberries, chase one another along the top of the fence. A maple tree is softly magicking to shades of crimson and umber while an errant leaf drifts lazily down.
She drops her eyes to glance at the grocery list she has written. Picking up her handbag, she snatches her car keys and leaves for the store. Once in the parking lot, she searches for a drive-through spot. These are her favourite — no tight turns or reversing necessary once she has done the shop. She pulls in quickly and puts the car in park, turning off the ignition and reaching for the requisite quarter. Gulls are circling the area. She hears them clattering before she opens the door, their cries loud and animated declarations. Exiting her car, she observes a gull walking among the vehicles, a french-fry in its mouth. The reddish marking on its beak looks strangely like a burning ember. Flyers from the store’s weekly circular litter the asphalt, brightly coloured pages fluttering and skittering in the breeze.
Inside the store, she pushes the metal buggy. The wheel has something stuck in its housing and it veers awkwardly as she attempts to steer. Selecting from the pyramids of fruit, she eschews the available plastic bags and reaches for the mesh ones she has stuffed in her oversized purse. Plump oranges from Florida, shiny lemons from Vietnam, green grapes from California, bananas from Honduras, asparagus from Peru, bok-choy from China. Wrestling with her cart to keep it going forward, she strides awkwardly along the aisles, selecting the items needed to run the household. At the checkout, she carefully places her selections in reusable bags, aware as she does so that the colourful produce is already well travelled. She pushes her cart through the doors and across the garbage-strewn tarmac. Gulls have now descended on a paper bag and are squabbling over its contents.
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Editor’s note – this piece was written and accepted for publication prior to tariff violations of the USMCA.
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Lucy E.M. Black (she/her/hers) is the author of The Marzipan Fruit Basket, Eleanor Courtown, Stella’s Carpet, The Brickworks and Class Lessons: Stories of Vulnerable Youth. A Quilting of Scars will be released October 2025. Her award-winning short stories have been published in Britain, Ireland, USA and Canada. She is a dynamic workshop presenter, experienced interviewer and freelance writer. She lives with her partner in the small lakeside town of Port Perry, Ontario, the traditional territory of the Mississaugas of Scugog Island, First Nations.
She can be found at: www.lucyemblack.com
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The Litter I See Project 