1: buying medicine. rows of bottles of extracts of herbs. ancient remedies. patented formulas. pills behind clear plastic. liquid through brown glass. allergy releif. next time, please spellcheck your label.
2: making milkshakes. wrapped straws in my pockets and a leaning tower of styrofoam cups. rows of tubs of ice cream. (8.) no orders for vanilla, one for a glass of milk. sticky fingers. wet paper towels. big smiles.
3: drinking coffee. hot, warm, cool. two spoonfuls of sugar. no condensed milk. coasters that look like molecules, molecules that look like spirographs. i am afraid to take my medicine because i don’t want to gag. more coffee, instead, please.
4: walking circles. white picket, chain link and red brick. the rose bush that eats sweaters, the sweaters that rejuvenate themselves. the house with the red door. soap, rose, smoke and is that jasmine?
5: driving home. teenage fanclub on cassette. rewinding, singing, rewinding, singing again. the squeaking, the revving, the blowing wind as accompaniment. reaching the top of my lungs, wherever that is.
[answers: 1. sight. 2. touch. 3. taste. 4. smell. 5. sound.]