With babysitting money in my pocket and newfound independence, I slid my bike into the drugstore bike rack. In front of the candy display stood a man in a rumpled suit, balding and paunchy, abjectly staring, unable to decide. Suddenly, the man became life’s absurdity writ small: Any choice he made, however pleasant, would be quickly consumed, then gone. Now I was the one staring. The man paid, frowned in my direction, pocketed his gum, and left. The moment broken, I grabbed a roll of Pep O Mint Life Savers, paid, and glided away smiling, cheeks filled with meaningless candy.
When not riding her bike, Jan Lynch can be found drinking peppermint mocha coffee and reading in cafes, libraries, and random drugstores.