Teacher Yvonne and her poem
door Joke de Hoogh
I have never been fond of trolleys or baskets when entering a supermarket, but now in times of COVID-19, I am handed one every time I enter through the supermarket door, like an award that I truly did not want to win. I say my acceptance speech (a simple “dank u” in badly pronounced Dutch) and strive towards the bananas, my trolley has a wheel that doesn’t work but it only inspires me to get this shopping trip over and done with quickly; I aspire to be the Usain Bolt of banana buying.
The trollies are always heavier than I remember as I try and navigate through the supermarket to find the chickpeas, and also some donuts as the working day has been particularly taxing. There are many others like myself, trying to control their trollies which seem to have a mind of their own, they contort their bodies to fit inside their safe space located behind the metal machinery that they are trying to operate, as well as throwing various items into it.
door Ava MacPherson
Psychiatry in the city, disco at the clinic