I Digress

I Digress  (E) This is a flash fiction I wrote 6 or so months ago. #1694794 by PLB

"God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages." ~ Jacques Deval
“Excuse me! Miss, please,” shouted a pick-up truck driver, who slowly crept beside my long strides.
The road runs directly north, following a line of spruce trees. It is mostly dirt now, the gravel carelessly pushed to the sides after years of travel and the many changes of season.
“Sir, I just need a few things at the market. This path connects my house to downtown Sherwood. It’s only a short ten minute walk from here,” Mary grumbles apathetically. “Listen, I don’t want to use my car, waste gas, and my hard earned money, when my destination is within walking distance.”
“That may be so ma’am, but this abandoned road is private property. Owned by the state. Before this metropolis was built, this old dirt road was a main vein to the small town that once stood here, and it’s my job to protect it. Please turn around now, I don‘t want to have to ask you again.”
Without a second thought, Mary keeps walking with a hurried step, ignoring the man’s kind words. She is nearly four minutes away from the corner store where she’s looking to buy a loaf of bread, processed cheese, and some deli meat.
“Look, I’m nearly there. Can you let this slide just this one time?” she begs haughtily, stopping to stare into the man’s eyes, attempting to draw any pity out of his hard heart.
He looks straight into her eyes, penetrating the depths of her light brown iris’ for any reasons that might allow her to continue. He pauses for a few seconds before coming into focus, looking at her in her entirety.
“You know what? Fine. I’ll let you walk to the market, buy your groceries, and walk on back. If I see you out here again, I won’t think twice about calling police.”
The man shoots forward past the woman, gray-white gravel spitting out from beneath the rubber tires. She gazes at the chipping paint of the old grocers sign and the hardware store next door. Beside the towns oldest shops sits Sherwood’s Computer Sales and Service, in business since 2006.
“What an old kook,” Mary exclaimed with a laugh. “Like he wouldn’t do the same thing?”
The bell twinkles as she steps onto the tattered straw welcome mat.
“Welcome to Andy’s Grocery, can I assist you with anything today?” an employee bellows with gusto.
“Uh, I’ve brought a list, but thanks.”
“I’ll be at the register when you’re ready to check out,” the friendly voice sounded as Mary walked towards the bread.
Ignoring the man’s voice, she quickly grabs her few items, and stands in the single check-out line, behind two other people bearing carts of food.
Ten minutes pass and she walks past the ragged welcome mat once more onto the brick-laden street. Mary sees the dirt path off to the left and she looks at her alternate, longer route. Thinking about what the man said, she struts back towards the overgrown dirt path, letting his words disappear.