Untitled, Love at the Curb

There is a family coming toward the grocery store, walking in from the parking lot.  A middle-aged woman paces in front of likely her grown child, whose gait and face bear the geometry of a brain developmentally outside the norm.  A third woman closely follows; she's the right age to be the grandmother.  They are a bundle moving forward together with a kind of cyclical attraction and then distancing, like those animations of charged particles in a cell.

The grown child now watches her own deliberate step up the curb. I see that look of science, of the habit of observation - did it work this time? Still attuned to the outcome of her step up, the girl shouts: "I love you!"

"I love you, too" say the mothers in unison.