the exchange

The Exchange

he is primed for battle,
barefoot, with boots in hand.
it is the first day of my new job
the other two workers are barricaded
behind a large window
with a box of donuts & coffee
it is raining.
he says, I bought these here & I
want to return them, so I lift one boot
with the bottom out, old broken army boots,
discolored, destroyed.
our eyes meet
each of us holding our own rules,
mine, to the store, his, of humanity
because it is raining
and he is freezing
and we both know
there is no return, no policy provided
for desperation.
boots are on the third aisle, I say.
the women are still breaking
into doughnuts & small talk
when the bell rings on the door
on his way out.
this alerts the women
to a possible sale
and to the filthy boots by the register.
Sale? she says. Exchange. I reply
She bloats her outrage in a swell
back behind the window
where they volley a ball
of my stupidity.
but I keep my eyes blank,
my heart is unbroken.

Reviews

[Kevin Vorshak]

Touching, Phibby. This is a wonderful portrayal of the best of us. The employee allowed the man a simple exchange as opposed to a handout. One left with dignity, one acted with dignity. The fellow employees are too caught up in their lives to see, and you use their ignorance splendidly to showcase the new employees thoughtful generosity. Well done.

[Collect-Eye]

This might just be the most beautiful thing I've ever read.

[W.k.kortas]

In terms of narrative, it's a bit like O. Henry, but without the schmaltz and the gotcha--and what is going on at the edges is much deeper, much more subtle than he could have ever hoped to portray. As the wise Emily notes, it is the song of all of us. Fine, fine work.

[Emily B]

humanity sings to words like this. I'm sure of it. hooray for unbroken hearts.