She gave him a shopping list, told him to get what he could. But don’t come home empty-handed, she warned. Or else.
Shouldn’t be a big deal, he thought. He’d be happy to run a few errands, to help the family. But some cash to pay for it all would’ve been nice.
“You’re smart,” his mother said. “You’ll figure it out.”
He stood in the supermarket aisle, his hands shaking, his breathing quick. Felt like every camera, every eye was on him.
He fixated on a slab of ground beef and wondered…
Do they send ten-year-olds to prison for shoplifting?
The Weekday One Hundred 