I looked at my watch immediately I entered the grocery store. It was almost 5pm. The sky was gray, and the wind smelled like wet leaves and dirt. I wanted eggs and bread. Just eggs and bread. But my bag already felt heavy. My shoes squished with every step.
“Hey, James,” a voice said. I looked up. Clara. She was leaning on the counter, with her hair dropping off her face and elbow resting there like she owned the place.
“Hi,” I said. My voice betrayed me. It sounded too shallow, like I had forgotten how to speak.
“You look tired,” she said.
“I am tired,” I said. Work had been a mess. I had argued with my roommate this morning over nothing. I had skipped lunch. I did not want to explain any of that.
She smiled a little. That kind of smile that makes you feel like she knows exactly what you are hiding. “You always do that. Always trying to hide, but you cannot hide it from me.”
“I do not always,” I said.
She laughed. Too sharp, then softer. “Sure.”
I grabbed a carton of eggs. One slipped from my hand immediately. I caught it before it hit the floor. The shell cracked a little.
“Careful,” she said.
“I am careful,” I muttered. Though obviously I was not. Another egg wobbled. I sighed.
“You do not have to carry everything perfectly,” she said.
“I am not trying to,” I said. I did not know why I sounded annoyed.
A man in a blue jacket bumped me. “Watch it,” he snapped. I mumbled sorry. Clara rolled her eyes.
“People are always in a rush,” she said.
“Not everyone,” I said. I thought of it for a second and realised people were actually in a rush all the time.
She tilted her head. “You notice that everyone is in a rush. You notice the small things.”
“I notice what I notice,” I said, not really meaning anything.
The smell of fresh bread made my stomach turn as we approached the bread isle. Clara picked up a loaf. “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” I said. Habit. Not hunger.
Her hand hovered over the loaf. “Wait, did you hear what I said about work?”
I blinked. “What?”
Her voice dropped. “I got fired today.”
I froze. The bread felt heavy. My hands shook. I could not think.
“I do not know what to do,” she said. Voice cracking.
“Clara,” I said. “It is going to be okay. We will figure it out.”
She shook her head. “I liked that job. It was steady. But I don't know what happened.”
“I know,” I said. I reached over and touched her arm. She flinched slightly. Then relaxed. “We will figure it out together. You are not alone.”
Silence fell. Loud. Strange. She looked at me. I tried to smile.
“I am scared,” she admitted finally.
“I am scared too,” I said. “I am scared all the time. But that does not mean we have to face it alone.”
She looked at me. Nodded. Shoulders loosened a little.
We paid, talking quietly about nothing. The sky darkened more. Purple clouds. Wind picked up, smelled like rain.
“I should go home,” she said.
“I will walk with you,” I replied.
We walked. Leaves blew around. I grabbed her hand as she slipped on a wet patch.
“You are clumsy,” I said, laughing softly.
“I am being careful,"
We reached her building. She turned. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For noticing. For not pretending this is nothing.”
I smiled. “You are welcome. We look out for each other, right?”
She nodded. “Right.”
I walked home. Shoes wet. Bag awkwardly heavy. Head spinning with her face, her laugh, the small cracks in her smile. Tiny moments matter more than you think. A touch, a word, a laugh. Life is messy, frightening, full of mistakes. But it matters when someone notices you.
I put bread and eggs on the counter. Simple things. Now they felt heavy in importance. Rain started again. I opened the window. Smell of wet street in my nose.
Even when life does not go the way you plan, even when you mess up or drop eggs or get yelled at, there is meaning. Just noticing someone’s eyes, their laugh, their hand slipping into yours.
I leaned against the counter. The streets were wet and blurry. People ran, shoes squishing, umbrellas flipping. And I thought, this is okay. Wet, loud, messy, confusing. But okay.
I will go to work tomorrow. Something will happen. Someone will yell. Someone will smile. And I will notice.
Noticing is what matters. Caring. Small moments. Small people. That is what makes life bigger than all the noise.