CHAOS DIDN’T DIE

‘Can I have the paper?’ I said to the woman working the checkout.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said and fumbled it.
I packed the paper then the rest of the shopping.
‘Thank you,’ she said handing me the receipt. ‘Take care now.’
I’d heard her say, “take care now,” to the man in front of me and thought I wouldn’t feel comfortable if she said it to me so when she did, except for turning my back to her, I said nothing.
On one of the raised grassy areas in James Barton three paramedics knelt down beside the body of a man wore a fluorescent tabbard over his jacket and had a shaved head. I couldn’t tell he was dead or alive.
I read the news written on the wall at the top of King Square Avenue: “Chaos didn’t die.”