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I walk into the store to buy cereals because we're out of it at home. Its 7 in the morning and i have to be at work at 8 am, but i always have time for this.

"Good morning, Travis." I greet the man that ive known for over 15 years now at cash register. He's at his 60s and he got this job from his father as he always tells the story of how its a family business. Owning a store runs in their blood apperantly.

"Morning, Mary.." He answers absent-mindedly as he's gazing down at the money pile in his hands. Who stole from him again?

His slim figure seems smaller that he's bent forward, focused on what he's doing. I can see the top of his head which is bold and glistens from how hot it is in here. Because he's bent I cant see his face, and beard which he seems to quite like because he has been growing it since forever. Its reaching his chest. Combined with his half grey, half white hair which is long and pouring on his shoulders, he has this old vibe to him. Good old.

I go to the relevant shelf to get three boxes of cereal in order for not to be out of it quickly, considering it is the only thing we eat at breakfast. I smile as i see all the cereals side by side and i have the desire to get one and disturb the tidy line that they form. The shelf that cereaI boxes rest is one of the only tidy shelves. Travis is not one to bother himself with order.

I extend my arm forward and take one box. I put it in the tray that i got on my way to this shelf. My hand lingers on the third box as i take my time.

He's not here yet.

The store is not a big one but not small either that you could only find basic things. There are a lot of things that make it smaller here than it would be, like it should, if it were a store for basic things like some food, cigarettes, gazettes.

Then, i hear the sound of the door opening and heels coming in. I put the last box into the tray and head to the section where they keep the milk, yogurt, cheese and other stuff that needs to be kept cold. I get one cartoon of milk as i hear the heels moving again. I feel the coldness diffusing across to me from the shelves. It is good to feel some cold.

"Hi there, Travis.." He greets Travis just like i did. It makes me think that he's been living here for long but i could be wrong and the reason that he knows him could be that he just.. knows him.

I hear him come my way because the heels sound closer. He finally reaches the section im in front of and stand next to me, getting what he needs from the shelves casually. I see his hands from the corner of my eye. I get another cartoon of milk considering there was just half of a cartoon at home.

Whatelse do i need?

"I'll be there for you.. I live and i die for you..

He starts to croon as he works his way. He makes a smile appear on my lips. He always does. For about two months now, he comes in and murmurs to himself, which he does so near me so it makes me think that he sings to me. Im not overvaluing myself, i wouldnt dare, but it is obvious that he sings near me so that i can hear. Today's song is from Bon Jovi and i like his taste in music. I apprrciate there are still people who apprraciate and cheerish good music.

"I'd steal the sun from the sky for you.."

Even though im finished with this section, i linger on. I want to hear him sing more. He has a nice voice that makes me think i would listen to him if he were a real singer.

But then again, he maybe is.

My hands literally touch every product, pretending they consider buying them. As i cant find more excuses to stand next to him, i move on. When the store runs out of products here, i move on to others to pretend like i think about buying. Slowly though, so that he can catch up. I am considerate like that.

He does catch up. He follows me around the store as i roam about with no other purpose than to feel him next to me, behind me, in front of me longer. He knows my intentions so he never stays behind more than three steps.

When i have enough of just wandering around, i go to the register and hand Travis the products. Travis looks at the products and then at me respectively. I give him a small, evasive smile. He knows collecting five products which consist of three boxes of cinnamon nut cheerios and two cartoons of milk from the shelves dont take this long. He beeps them, yes, his store is up to date that it has machines as he so proudly tells everyone, and voices the cost. I pay up and bag the products as slowly as i can without actually stopping bagging.

It is a 'self bagging' store meaning, you bag your own things. Travis will not bother helping with the products that he doesnt own anymore because you paid for them.

After im done with bagging now my products, i head out, one bag in each hand. I turn the corner that i made a habit of turning every day, these two months. I know what is there and i know what is not. There is not an abundance of cars or people there, for one thing. There is just one car parked beside the sidewalk. The street is forgotten except from the walls that rise from the ground and form buildings which have 4 floors at most. Buildings are not the happiest ones. Here is not metropolis. They are ramshackle with damaged walls and broken hearts that live in those walls. The houses are as ruined as the people inside them.

So, i turn the corner of the building that has the store on the ground floor.

I see it. 1990 model Volkswagen Beetle that i am accustomed to. It has a baby blue color on the body, but the roof is a creamy white. The blue lights my soul up every time i see it. It is because its a blue that feels like the sky landed, and because it's his car. I don't even know him. I know his beetle.

I head for the beetle. It isn't locked as expected. I hop in as if it were my car. It is fimiliar enough to feel like it is my own. Like its owner.

But i dont really know him.

I put the bags at the back.

He hops in as well. When he is seated in the driver's seat and i am seated in the passenger seat, he turns on the music. It is always the same. We hop in, he turns on the music. The song is always same as the one that he sings in the store.

I listen to it until the very end, but i don't hum along to it. The lyrics keep appearing in my mind, wanting to be voiced, but i don't let apperances turn into reality. I am happy this way.

He turns to me when last beat dissapears into the silence. He smiles. I smile.

He reaches for me. I let him.

He pecks me on the lips. I look him in the eye.

He kisses me longer. I kiss him back.

He pulls me to him. I push myself to him.

He pulls me onto his lap. I cradle him.

He pulls his pants down. I pull my skirt up.

He eases in. I close my eyes.