The icanders were mum dad and sons. They had been working here for as long as I could remember. By now the youngest son was maybe sixty but he looked the same as always except his hair had thinned. Seeing us enter the shop made him genuinely happy. He knew not to expect returners or newly moved in people. At best some impoverished refugee on a temporary placement. Which was probably why they had never bothered to refurbish or extend the shop. Foodstuffs were still stacked on tall shelves along the walls.

I manoeuvred the trolley trying to think a few days ahead followed by bror who smelled badly and seemed to be in a trance until he suddenly spotted icander senior and stopped at the shelf of tinned food.

Two tins of artichokes please bror said and got a sidelong glance in return.

The artichokes were on the top shelf. Covered in dust like tins stockpiled for an emergency.

The shopkeeper moved the steps along and climbed up. Standing below we could see the treads bending under his body. Mricander wasn’t simply fat. He was huge. His rump shook like a jelly. Sweat poured down his cheeks. Breath wheezed in and out of his massive chest.

Fuck’s sake I whispered you didn’t have to do that.

There was a mean grin on bror’s face when the man came down and handed over the tins.

Here you are he said. Hope they are as tasty as last time.

We put the goods on the counter. Mrsicander said the name of each item out loud when she entered it into the till. Coffee 20yes. Soap yes. Twelve lemonades yes. Tampons yes. Oranges yes. Otex ear drops yes.

She once worked in a pharmacy down south said bror. So what I said but he didn’t answer. He was focused on glaring at a blanklooking guy who wouldn’t take his eyes off us.

No wonder shopping puts me off bror muttered as he packed the stuff we had bought into cloth shopping bags mother had sewn by hand.

Admittedly I was sometimes amused to see people pay attention to me for just existing. Even though we came from different eggs we mostly behaved just the way people expect from twins. Read each other’s thoughts and spoke in unison.

So what’s the delicious dish you are going to cook with the artichokes I asked when we were back in the car.

His answer was to make a face.

Look seriously I said. Why torment him with your tins. He hasn’t harmed you has he.

And what do you know he replied. Nothing that’s why I ask.

Bror was staring through the window at something. Get over it he said in the end.

I swung into the service station to fill up and buy tobacco.

Are you back home again asked the till girl though I had no memory of having met her before.