We’ll call our guy “B.” to protect his identity.

B.’s manager can’t make heads or tails of his convoluted delivery route. Not one straight line between stops. He doesn’t confess to dusting his ankles at Daisy’s and Violet’s, at Dahlia’s. Gathering pollen.

B. loves his job, every meander, each back-track.

Todd Mercer was nominated for Fiction and Poetry Pushcarts last year. His collection Ingenue was published Autumn of 2020 by Celery City Press.