The Receipt Songs

A found receipt: Denny's #3847, Exit 14, Route 9. April the ninth, 4:03 AM — Grand Slam breakfast, one black coffee, one dollar tip. He ordered everything. He didn't touch the eggs.

A found receipt: Kroger #872, Tuesday February 11th, 2:14 PM — DiGiorno Four Cheese, a two-liter ginger ale, Us Weekly. Eleven forty-seven. She drove home the long way, read the nutrition facts three times, and set the magazine face-down. Not grief yet. Just the next hour.

A found receipt: CVS #4417, December 24th, 10:47 PM — Plan B One-Step, a balsam cedar candle, Breathe Right strips, one Lindt truffle. Sixty-five and change. A woman alone on Christmas Eve, doing what needed doing. She sat in her car in the parking lot and didn't cry. Then she drove home.

A found receipt: seven items from St. Aurelius Medical Center cafeteria, 11:14 AM, the day his mother went into surgery. One of everything small — scrambled eggs, oatmeal, soup, juice, coffee, pudding. He carried the tray to a corner table. He didn't eat any of it.

A found receipt: seven items from Dollar General on Maple Avenue, 3:17 PM, same Thursday as the burial. Paper towels, bleach, trash bags, rubber gloves — and one bottle of lavender dish soap. The lease ends Friday. Someone has to be the someone.

A found receipt: seven items from Vending Bank C, St. Augustine Medical Center ICU, 2:31 AM. All quarters. A man feeding a machine one coin at a time while his wife is in surgery — the only decision left to him.

A found receipt: $217.14 at Costco, 6:14 PM, the night before the divorce hearing. Diapers for the new apartment. Dress socks for the courthouse. Two handles of vodka. A joint card he hadn't canceled yet.

A found receipt: one birthday card, 11:47 PM, Walgreens on Foster Avenue. A twelve-year marriage, told in five dollars and forty cents.