WALLYWORLD WONDERLAND

Scene: Wal-Mart, surburbs of Houston, 10:45 pm,

Less than 48 hours before Hurricane Ike's projected landfall.

Feels like a third world country. Entire bread aisle stands empty. Stockers bring out towers of bread from the back and don't even bother putting it on the shelf. Shoppers are grabbing loaves and big bags of bagels straight from the racks.

There is no fruit left except a handful of plums, which one woman looks through languidly.

Beer aisle is completely disintegrated into wide white shelves upon which rest orphaned cans and dismantled cases.

Canned vegetables rest on their sides, rolled over from giant stacks that stand no more. Mixed peas and carrots give shoppers the hairy eyeball from their side profile. Soup cans have been carelessly flung about, in random order on the shelves.

Shoppers walk by, most in groups, with frozen faces and wandering eyes, huge pallets of bottled water stacked high on their carts. Bags of chips, dip, crackers, pretzels and cookies beckon from the side "special" aisles.

Dairy section stands untouched, the lower caste of the nonperishable item rush. Frozen section stands lonely and ignored.

Mothers look through cheese and lunch meat sections as young folks grab for hot dogs and great rolls of sausages. Entire cases of tuna are elusive, only seen in rare shoppers carts. There are exactly two packages of beef jerky left. Nuts and trail mix are surpised to find themselves still standing.

The only size batteries left standing are the C's, who feel unwanted. Duct tape has become extinct.

Large groups of shoppers mill restlessly in long check out lines, too tired to make small talk.

Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep... is the only sound we hear in this long dark night, waiting.

Waiting for Ike.