March 16, 2007
One hand loaded with plastic grocery sack, lunch box, coat, and scarf, Carol keyed her way into the back door. As the door opened, the dog shot out and pranced into the lawn panting happily. Simultaneously, the grocery sack handles distended, stretched and broke. Her groceries fell to the cement with a flat thud of crinkling plastic. “Oh crap,” she said. She realized all she’d bought was a sack of chips and a bottle of wine. She ran inside and grabbed a bowl and the dusty colander. By the time she picked up the bag, wine was pooling around it.