The Green Grocer

I know my green grocer pretty well - because I am the only customer that rocks up at 6:30am to do their weeks' worth of veggie shopping. At those times it's quiet, and we chat and joke, and when the bill comes to $42.50, the green grocer rounds it down to a neat $40.

But I haven't yet told my green grocer that I'm unwell. He's aware that I no longer come in at 6:30am in my suit, he noticed when I cut my hair, but I haven't had the heart to tell him that something is wrong.

Today, I discretely come in to pick up a leek and a lettuce. He notices me straight away. "Hey, now the hair is all gone. What's going on?", he says jokingly as he comes over. Then he goes pale. "You're sick, aren't you?" I tell him the truth, and huge tears well up in his big brown medittarean eyes.