Gummy Bears for Dinner

It's about 10 past 5PM on a friday at the ol' office. After talking myself out of bikram yoga classes, I walk out of my building and up 51st to the 6 Train station, down to its over-crowded platform. The train arrives; it stops, but only after a skull-shattering, drawn-out, screeching halt. Bodies pour out of the cars in an anthropomorphic lava. As they clear away, those standing by (impatiently) funnel in. I'd rather eat sardines than make like one in life, so waiting for the next train seems best.

I get off two stops past my home station with the sole intention of buying some pre-made organic chicken for dinner from a near by co-op. I throw some yogurt and coconut water in my basket, too. And those organic - therefore, healthy - gummy bears; made with the real fruit juice and sweetened with date pulp and world peace. Never pass them up. Some silky sorbet? Meh...it has that crystal-y ice film all over it; not this time.
My walk home has that eerie, yet fanciful, serenity that only an autumn evening could bring.
I take one more deep breath in the brisk twilight and step into my apartment. Before the groceries go into the kitchen, they follow me to my room, where I proceed to disrobe of my corporate attire into more comfortable things. As the slacks my dry-cleaner just about ruined after only one cleaning drop to the floor,
"Damn, I forgot the chicken".