Any Saturday


May closed the cash drawer.

It would not close.

“I thought Henry fixed this,” she called to the back of the shop.

“He did,” answered Joy. “Which means it’s broke in a new way. I call it Henry fixed.

She came behind the counter, bumped May out of the way with a friendly hip. “You got to lift it up a little, like so.”

The drawer slid neatly in and closed with a little ringing sound that made May smile.

“It didn’t do that before.”

Joy shrugged.

From the back of the shop  a child wailed.

May looked up sharply.


Friday Fictioneers