The people milling around in the store are so distant to me.

I know none of them and watch them, milling. They seem to move in stages, in steps, without flow. Their carts are full of Items and are pushed incrementally. Each Item has a different shape, but remains just a conglomeration of molecules. The people, too, are Items. They are distant to me and lost, like coins, like the nickel found in the grass, dirty and crusted. How long has it been there, unknown, this lost nickel? It goes in a pocket and is connected again and has life. When the people have the correct number of Items in their carts, they move to the front of the store gradually and purchase them using other Items made of paper or plastic but really just molecules. Then they go away again into the grass like lost nickels, lost and dirty and crusted nickels never searched for but only happened upon.

If nobody looks at you are you even there? I wonder.
More so,
perhaps.