And there I was, waiting in line at the grocery store, then placing my chosen items upon the belt of conveyance. At that moment, what I wished more than anything was for the divider, the stick separating my groceries from those picked by the individuals occupying the space behind me, to remain stationary, not to move as my food and beverage choices pressed onwards. But low and behold, as if Satan had descended upon _______ in order to gleefully thwart my superlative passion, the divider moved a fraction of an inch as the cashier pushed her motivational button. Distraught, I then did my best to maintain my composure as I exchanged funds for the goods in question. And the gummy worms I had purchased, sublime representatives of truth and prosperity, emanating earthen warmth and squiggly justice, making unreasonable demands, adding stipulations and salutations the likes of which I had never thought could be the product of joy, slithered their way into my pocket, and as I lamented the movement, the lack of a concrete resolution, I could only sigh and shake my head, for I new that never again would I be able to watch as that specific divider at that particular moment remained stable, for during the period in question it had moved, and therefore would also move, within my memory, forever.