Riley

March 23, 2018
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The first time I met Riley was on the last day of summer vacation before my sophomore year of high school. She came into the convenience store where I had been working that summer late in the afternoon, a time when not many people were out and about.

She spared me a quick glance and looked away just as quickly, as she began fill the handheld shopping basket that she had picked up from the entry way with an assortment of snacks and candies. I watched her make her slide through the aisles, an air of nervousness around her as though she was being graded on the swiftness with which she made her selection. She was wearing a red flannel with a grey undershirt and jean shorts with sandals, her long brown locks cascading over her shoulders framing her face alongside the dangling golden earring she wore on her left ear. She looked to be around the same age as me, though she was maybe an inch or two shorter than me. She walked up to the counter, still seemingly nervous, and dumped all of her snacks onto the counter

That’s all I’ve got for now.






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