The shopkeeper signals her over.
’Not my turn!’ she says.
He looks to the side ‘Come on then!’
calling to the Indigenous youth he’d ignored,
who shuffles up holding some sandals.
‘You can’t afford those, he growls, ‘Pick something else’,
returning the man’s card behind the counter.
He turns to her. ‘One sunhat. Any cash with that?’
She shakes her head, enters her pin,
staring at the forlorn card on counter.
‘Cashless welfare’ he grins.
Looking up, ‘That’s better!’
She turns to see the glum youth,
standing, flipflops in hand.
she wonders how to report this power keeper.