Grapes

There is was; blemishing the potential of something so valued for its use. A red basket deemed useless, dirty. A single grape, squashed and alone, defeating the purpose of the basket in which it sat. Disgusted, Mr Donaldson lifted the basket in order to reach another one- a “grape-less” one- a clean one. He quickly moved on towards the aisles. There was a task at hand, and Mr Donaldson knew how to complete a job on time. He was a man of efficiency, a man of purpose, and had no time for distractions or anything of the sort. As he walked, focused completely on what had to be done, a man in his early thirties bumped him on his way past. The man did not offer any sort of apology, in fact he continued on as if nothing had happened. He sighed. How different things had become in only a few short years.
“Hey Charlie, how’s the wife?” He gave a firm handshake and a warm smile before sitting down at his desk and opening his laptop computer. Fifty-four new emails “busy busy busy... always work to be done mate, ‘fraid I don’t have time for a chat” He picked up the phone. “Jenny darling, can you book me a flight to Brisbane, there’s a conference next week, I’ll send you the details now...”
He reached into the open fridge to grab a carton of milk. As he did, his hand brushed against one that contrasted his own worked and wrinkled one, a hand that was many years younger and much smoother than his. The gold ring on her finger... could it be? He looked up to see the familiar face of Julia. He smiled and opened his mouth ready to great an old friend when she hurried off; placing the milk in the trolley she was pushing. It had not been Julia at all, just a mother providing for her family. Mr Donaldson knew that she would soon be returning home to her family.   He looked down at his shopping list, only a few more items. He too would soon be returning to his apartment. But there was no one waiting for him there. He knew that he would have received no emails through the course of the...