They asked me if I were lost, but I was only running. When I told him I’d just moved here, he shrugged his shoulders, welcomed me to the neighborhood, and told me where to find food if I wanted it.
After stepping inside the the bakery he suggested, I asked the time, and the worker shook her head. Unprepared and out of breath, I stumbled through questions about the pastries in the case.
She pointed to the big, fried sphere on the top shelf.
Embarrassed about how much I’d forgotten, I thanked her and excused myself, backing out of the store. I told her I’d return later.