Two blocks away from where I work
there's a sandwich shop called "Mr. Pickles."
I go there once a month and order the #20:
a chicken breast with honey mustard, avadado and pepper jack
on a sweet roll. Yum.
The woman who serves me laughs at everything.
Just giggles and wiggles at Mr. Pickles.
She is the thing I love to encounter--
an unsolicited joy in an unexpected place.
I leave her and wonder what enables such joy
to reproduce itself each day.
Restored and rejuvenated by her silly generosity,
I know just two blocks away from where I work,
the work of something grander takes place and
I am It's humble customer.
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