She wept alone.

She cried.
Quietly.
Her cries muffled.
Muffled, but not muted.
Restricted, but not restrained.

She Wept Alone

There between the snack crackers and the cookies, she wept.

I heard her.
She heard her.
And, she heard her too.

A guy looked back and walked on.
Another woman peered over her shoulder. She barely hesitated.

Countless people in the grocery aisles, on their phones, passed by – without a glance – as she wept. Maybe they couldn’t hear? Maybe they couldn’t stop? Maybe they couldn’t care!

She Wept, Alone

We didn’t know what to do.

A second woman heard her cries. She looked up, wondering where the crying woman was. I heard her cries. I paused looking for a cue from the second woman.

A third woman – an aisle over – began to approach.
She had heard her cries too.
She was the first to move toward the crying woman.
She moved with concern in her eyes.

Warily we approached.
A fourth person – a man – approached too.
“Where did he come from?”, I thought to myself later.

We approached silently, but not not noiselessly.
Despite her tears she noticed our approach.

Without looking up, she began: “It just hurts so bad…”

She Wept Alone, No Longer

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