A ladybug rode on my light yellow seersucker jacket through the grocery store on Saturday. The two-spotted, still-brown-from-winter female was finicky; she did not buy anything, for she saw nothing she liked. (Though I could tell she was tempted by the fresh pineapple.)
She hung about, seeing the sights, keeping me company as I wandered, circling the store what seemed like five, or maybe twenty times. My thoughts and feet were not aligned, but she was patient, and walked with me: up one sleeve, across the shoulders, along the rim of my hood, perching on the far shoulder.
Perhaps she could sense my distress in the urban confusion of the market, and wanted to comfort me. Or perhaps she is a very smart girl, for she stayed with me until I emerged into the sunshine, and the comfort (safety) of a tree beckoned too beguilingly for her to resist.
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