Infectious

I didn’t know, until I got my results. Then I wondered. About the stressed mother with screaming child. The barista who brewed my perfect flat white. The shelf stacker who directed me to panko. The sullen postman who brought my parcel. All infected.

Infected with a smile and kind words. The mother giggled with the pensioner who pulled the door that should’ve been pushed. The barista entered, and won, the latte art competition. The shelf stacker applied for management training. The postman smiled at every doorstep after mine. Like ripples the smiles spread, and find us when we need them.