You can’t believe this, but the man behind me in line at the checkout counter saw it too, both of us laughing out loud in this store replete with everything anyone could wish for on a Saturday morning whiling away another hour weaving down and around the aisles, shelves risen higher than shoppers’ heads, these canyons of lose yourself in this maze of what-was-I-seeking, that good forgetfulness of why am I holding this whatever-it-is in the checkout line when the man behind me surprises himself and me by saying out loud, “Did you see that?”

and because we are both laughing, he knows I did: a mouse, a chubby mouse, scooting across my path halfway between the shelves laden with candies, then halts and reverses direction as if having forgotten something or why he had ventured out to confirm my new secret pal and I being here celebrating our mouse who has now frozen, maybe having recalled his purpose, then resumed his tango across to the underside of the adjacent shelves, the unsuspecting cashier waving me up, next in line, no dallying on this Saturday,

and because we know, now, finally, why we are here, we sort of glance at each other, and conspirators, saunter out the automatic doors into what can only be the private grace of this now unforgettable day.