You’ve been thinking about changing your routine,

smaller grocery stores, in and out easier, 

but not today when convenience is your goal,

one-stop shopping at a big box store,

so here you are, parking your car in the huge lot,

your 14-year-old daughter in tow, but refusing

to go inside with you, you sigh, tell her to lock the doors,

and enter the store with remnants of a shopping list

in your head, you pick through the produce,

then turn down the first aisle for bread, when boom,

you hear something you can’t identify, quick bursts

of hot sound, you look around and see others doing the same,

then someone dashes by you with panicked eyes

and you gasp even as you start running too, dear lord no,

your daughter is in the car, you round the corner to escape

out the door when a person six feet in front of you

explodes into pieces and you never knew blood

was so bluish purple bright red thick, you’re hyperventilating,

you bump into a display and the melons splat on the floor,

you’re looking for the shooter and dreading that he or she

will jump out in front of you, but you keep going

when you see another person lifted off the ground

then tossed back down like a bloody rag and you’re still running

and waiting to feel the hard punch of a bullet in your back

but you make it to the door and you see your daughter about to enter,

her face questioning until she sees your expression

and you shove her in front of you yelling go go go 

and already you hear sirens in the distance and you think help is on the way

but you get to the car and push your daughter in and fall on top of her,

locking the doors and ducking down instead of driving off 

because you know there’s still a threat but you don’t know where it is,

hours later you’ve talked to the police, been checked out by paramedics,

apologized to a stranger for leaving your shopping cart in the aisle, 

given the police your shirt in exchange for a blanket since your shirt 

is covered with what they call crime scene evidence, 

and you’re crying and your daughter is crying and your husband at home is crying,

you wipe smears of something from your face, clutch the blanket

and realize yesterday is over.