Jack's Drugs Tee

Jack’s Drugs sat on the edge of downtown, just close enough to matter but never the center of things. After school we’d grab candy, drift down the aisles, and laugh at the endless shelves of adult diapers and canes. The place smelled like liniment and old age, so of course we staged our little plays—hobbling with walkers, pretending to be frail. Now we’re in our 40s, with knees that click, backs that stiffen, and blood sugar we actually think about. Jack’s is gone. It was there, and then it wasn’t. Like so many things.