First, I heard “Shit!” Then, I heard the sound of someone’s shopping cart crashing into mine and the sound of my canned goods being tossed arou...d.“I’m so sorry,” she said, sounding sincerely apologetic.I chuckled and told her it was no problem, as she sped down the aisle. She looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t know from where.There was hardly anyone in the market at six o’clock at night, since everyone else was home eating dinner, instead of shopping for it. It was my favorite time to. "What am I meant to do now? Where do I keep my stuff, my furniture, fortwo weeks. Where do I live. How do I fucking solve that genius?"James tells me about these things he saw on TV called PODS, that arelike small shipping containers that you can put furniture in and thenput on the back of a truck."You can leave it in my yard for a couple of weeks while you stay withme," he says taking my hand.I pull my hand away from him and tell him that's his solution toeverything. I ask about my time. More

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