Mumbling Myrtle
 

Mumbling Myrtle sat in a booth in the local convenience store.

Her usual seat was located between the magazine rack and a shelf full of car care products.

The tile floor under her feet was made of that stuff that causes people not to slip when they step on a grape.

So Myrtle was safe as she rose from her orange plastic booth to get a pack of Salems and a half-order of biscuits and gravy.

They call it a "half-order" because there is only one half of one biscuit in a styrofoam box covered in gravy, (not the box but the biscuit).

And so that leaves the other half of the biscuit abandoned and sitting until someone who wants a snack comes along.

And so, then they are connected; Myrtle and the random stranger, like two star-crossed ships in the night, both eating and digesting the same biscuit broken by the cashier, (who also makes deli sandwiches).

Did Myrtle only plan on half of a biscuit? No. But an old woman can only pick up so many aluminum cans in one day.

So the other half of the biscuit was claimed by the UPS man who wears shorts in September.

Did he think of Myrtle as he masticated his biscuit?

She's there everyday just sitting and smoking and talking to herself.

Sure he thought of her.

He was hoping she wouldn't talk to him as he made his way for his truck.

She just sat in her booth and played with her watery gravy as she filled her lungs with smoke and stared at the stains in the acoustic ceiling tile.