By The Light of It

Early that morning, he walked around the building and stared at it from every angle. His friends were supposed to meet him there, but they had not shown up yet probably because he was way early. He stopped beneath a tree and sat down in its shade, protecting himself from an already-too-hot sun.

The night before she told him she no longer loved him and he'd better move out before the month was over or else. He saw this coming so he did not argue, nor plead his case. She was a strong woman and she'd get what she wanted no matter what, and he was nothing that mattered, so be it as it may.

By the light of it, he watched his friends approach, all three of them: they tripped and joked and pushed each other without a care in the world. He resolved to let this be all that mattered and he smiled without worrying because no one was watching and he didn't care anyway.

They all entered the store together and continued pushing happily until one of them knocked over a display with a loud crash and then their hearts melted into laughter, loud and obnoxious, but without spite or malice, just innocent.

The cans of beans rolled, the cokes spun, and people tried to dodge, but many got hit in the ankle and cried out in pain. It was a debacle for the manager. He caught none of the four friends. He did not see what any of them looked like. By the light of it, they would continue on, free.