the fall shoe sale

she's angry.
her face crimson,
her stance
wide
and strong,
no wind or flood
could
knock her
down, even in
those flimsy
flip flops.
she holds
the newspaper
up to you,
rattling it in
your pale face.
how could you,
she says,
seething, how
could you tell
not tell me
about the fall
shoe sale
at Nordstrom
again, this year.