Autumn has already wrecked the land, but it’s not the worst part of the year yet. Because the skies open one morning and all of a sudden the world is layered in an ice cold white blanket. It’s not so much the cold as it is the loneliness that stems from it. Somehow ever since that fateful day, winter’s beauty is lost on him. Well, not entirely. Not its beauty. But the thought of early dark and long, lonely nights kind of ruins its charm. Any charm, honestly.

Last year the autumn had still been bearable. However, this time around the falling leaves have left their lasting impression. The ground beneath his feet crackles with every step, reminding him of long lost places and lives he no longer wishes to be reminded of. This corner of a small back part of some widely unknown town is his home now. He remembers the joyous winter nights like a long ago faded memory, only bits and pieces still clear enough to grasp, the only real emotion it brings anymore nothing but a bitter sort of nostalgia.

Swallowing the breath he’s been holding, the excess air still spills out of him in a sigh. Never mind, he thinks, never mind the groceries, I’ll get them tomorrow. Never mind tomorrow is a holiday and no store will be open. He turns on his heels and goes back inside, leaving the dreary world behind for the comfort of his blankets and this or the other gravely promoted series on Netflix.

Of course 11.30 am the next morning has him driving around his new home of a town trying to find a store still open, cursing himself for his decision of the previous evening. He really should have gone grocery shopping after all, because his cupboards are empty and his fridge makes protesting noises of emptiness as he opens its door. There’s not much left in the freezer anymore either to help him out, the one portion of meat he defrosts instantly blowing an air of spoilt food in his direction the moment he opens the microwave.

Okay, so maybe he makes bad decisions like that on a daily basis and maybe he already knew the day before that he would put himself in a bad position that day, but December just really doesn’t make him feel inclined to go out. He prefers the locked up privacy of his little home and the anonymity of sitting behind his computer watching TV series online. Although the occasional glimpse he gets of himself in between episodes admittedly are mildly frightening, it is still better than glimpses of the dreariness outside.

A sudden sign a little further up ahead has him brake so suddenly the tires even squeak for a moment. “We’re Open” it reads, with a big arrow pointing into the tiniest side-alley he’s ever seen and then “For Your Last Minute Groceries.” Well they’re definitely last minute, he’d say. Most of these stores open on holidays close at twelve which means he has about 10 minutes left to get food for the rest of his day. Leaving his car in the first open spot he finds, he doesn’t bother checking if it’s legal. Everyone and their mother is inside celebrating the wonderful family moments anyway, it’s not like any cop is going to be out and about fining wrongly parked cars. And if one is then that guy probably has the tiest day of his life and he’s not going to take from him the joy of being allowed to fine someone else.

Tucking his car keys into his pocket, he rushes over from his car to the alley to follow the sign to what he hopes will be a decent enough little night store-like supermarket. Or whatever place it was that decided to still grace him with their aid in finding lunch and dinner for that day. The leaves crackle beneath his feet as he goes and he hates the sound with a passion. On top of that, the still somewhat frozen underground almost makes him break a limb, if not for the wooden pin in the wall he manages to grab hold of to keep himself upright. Instead of a broken limb he probably has a giant splinter in his hand instead, but two steps further on he’s able to turn and step into the store so he lets the issue slip from his mind.

He instantly grabs a basket and heads into the first aisle, preferring not to glance in the direction of the store attendant so he can avoid the awkward eye contact. It is a very little store instead and there isn’t much space he can put in between himself and the store attendant for long, but he makes use of it for as long as he can nonetheless. Surprisingly they have a few kinds of fruit and vegetables and even offer a small variety of cheese and meat. Deciding to not wonder too much about his surprising luck of that day, he simply takes the things he feels like eating and heads over to the counter.

That’s when he has no choice but to face the male on the other side of it, looking up with a polite enough smile and the usual nonsense greeting already on his lips. Yet the sight of the male ‘s frown shuts him up straight away. The stranger’s eyes are not on his face, however, instead his gaze is pointed to something more down low and as he follows the other male’s gaze he ends up looking at his basket of groceries. It takes him a surprisingly long moment to realise the cashier is not frowning at his groceries but at his hand, which by now looks like he accidentally sliced it half open.

“Do you need a bandage, sir?” is spoken in quite understandable words despite the heavy accent. Lifting the basket so he can put it on the counter, he lets go of it and turns his hand so he can look at it. There is no splinter in his hand, he realises then, but there is a small gash, although by then it has already as good as closed up. Of course not before bleeding over the basket handle.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, clutching his hand into a fist so he won’t soil anything else and wishing for the umpteenth time that day that he had gone grocery shopping the day before. “But perhaps a tissue to clean the handle. I’m very sorry, I didn’t realise I was bleeding.” He is nodded at, a tissue instantly given to him with that same frown still on the attendant’s face. Worry, he realises after a moment when he cleans off the handle and his hand a little too and sees the frown lift a little when no new blood appears.

He thanks the man awkwardly again for the tissue, stuffing it in his pocket so he doesn’t have to hand the bloodied thing back to the stranger. Waiting patiently then for everything to be entered into the cash register, he belatedly remembers to take out his wallet. Of course this has the bloodied tissue spilling out and falling on the floor, causing him to have to bend to pick it up, his head colliding heavily with the corner of the counter when he straightens back up.

“Sir!” is instantly uttered in half a panic, but he straightens further up, trying his best not to turn beet red as he rubs the back of his head with his good hand. “It’s okay,” he reassures the attendant quickly, swallowing once and focusing completely on his wallet next so he doesn’t have to look at the other. “How much is it?” Taking out the desired amount of money once he’s told how much he owes the other, he doesn’t bother to wait for the change. “Keep the rest,” he mumbles between his teeth as he picks up the bag with his groceries and hurries out of the store before he can embarrass himself further.

Realising he left the bloodied tissue on the counter in his hurry, he turns beet red after all, cursing himself for everything stupid in his mind as he makes his way back to his car. Going around the slippery spot from before carefully so he won’t slip again, he almost runs the last few steps to his car. Getting in as quickly as he can, he drops the groceries on the passenger seat next to him. Home, he thinks as he starts the engine and pulls out of what turns out to be a handicapped parking spot. He is definitely not going to that store ever again. God forbid anyone recognises him.