She didn’t confront me, but rather stood beside me picking through the avocados as if we didn’t know each other. ‘Arland, listen carefully. Can ...ou be ready to leave next week?’ What the hell was going on? How did she know my name and what was I getting ready for? In a desperate effort to maintain my self-composure I replied with confidence. ‘Yes.’ ‘Good. Park your truck in the loading area behind the market and meet me here, in the produce section at 9 AM. Any questions?’ I was caught totally. Cow juice. What was it called?“And have you noticed,” Donna said, looking around conspiratorially, “they’re only moving women?”The new transfer - Anita? Peta? - looked at Donna oddly, noticing the rings under her eyes and that she seemed to be swaying, worn out from the strain of standing and talking.“You want to talk to Annette,” Donna said, and worked up the energy to gesture towards the black woman filling her bottle up at the water filter. “The one over there with the great tits.”Rita. More

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