Sunday morning found me bleary-eyed and showered at nine o’clock. I’d been restless all night and felt groggy. I had a cup of coffee before heading out to the Sunday farmer’s market a block from my apartment. It would close after today, so this was my last chance for good deals before being forced to shop for everything at the supermarket. Kroger wasn’t cheap, not if I wanted the good stuff.
Unshaved, dressed in sweats and an old hoodie, I strolled in the brisk morning air with two empty cloth bags to my destination. Most of the vendors recognized me and waved as I passed by.
“Morning, Zachary,” the guy with the eggs greeted me.
“Ben,” I replied. “Two dozen?”
“Sure.” He gave me the cartons, and I handed over the cash.
“Appreciate it. I guess this is it until spring, huh?” I asked as I
