Mayhem at the Market

The box of heirloom tomatoes slipped from my rain-slicked hands, crashing to the

wet pavement and sending red and yellow fruit rolling into the crowd. Panic surged through

me as people trampled by, oblivious to the mess. Just then,

a stranger in a drenched apron slid into the mud beside me. "Need some help?"

he shouted over the roar of the storm. His name was Alex, a fellow vendor

who’d mistaken me for a new recruit struggling in the chaos. Together,

we scrambled on the ground, trying to salvage the bounty before it was washed into

the gutters. Every tomato we saved felt like a victory against the relentless rain.