Torn yellow sheet from a legal pad, its ragged edge fluttered in the breeze. Again and again, Lena read the note’s block letters in red Sharpie. She dropped the bottles of Malbec from the state store. Blood red wine and splintered glass flooded Lena’s sandals. Lena jumped back. Who knows? Lena thought. She scanned the shopping center parking lot. Mothers with strollers, an old man with a walker, a greasy teen was putting away shopping carts, a woman with glasses, each face became a cruel caricature.

“Hey lady you okay?” A biker type guy asked.

How could someone know? Lena whirled. The kid putting away carts stopped and stared. The woman with glasses approached.

“Do you know you hurt your leg? Your leg is bleeding. Did you break your package?” A mother with twin toddlers asked. “Look see she broke her bottle.”

Breathing hard, Lena backed away and tripped on the spilled booze. Her knee slammed on the ground. She dropped her car keys and purse. The purse spilled on the blacktop. Wallet, lipstick, Lena’s water bottle of vodka rolled away. The biker picked up Lena’s keys. Pushing him back, Lena snatched the keys and climbed into her car. Someone knows what I did.

“Lady, wait!” Someone shouted.

Lena pealed backwards. She scraped a Camry racing out of the parking lot entrance. The teen walked back to the market to get his manager. Someone called 911 as a group of shoppers gathered and pointed. Shaking his head, the biker walked over to his truck with his gallon of skim milk. Who stuck paper under my windshield wiper? He wondered.