A white loaf of bread

On a scorching afternoon sun, I was just outside the Mongala Mall Spar Supermarket; waiting for my cousin, Gorata. A trolley of groceries in front of me, when 3 blue denim jeans wearing young men passed, they must have been between the ages of 18-25. They were just leaving the Supermarket, too, and a white loaf of bread in one’s hands. One of the young men started easily breaking a soft piece of the warm looking bread and directing it to his mouth. The other 2 joined. Enjoying the bread, the trio strolled away. 

 On a scorching afternoon sun, I was strolling along the Hyde Park Serpentine. A trio of giggling little girls was feeding the united ducks a loaf of white bread. Their focused father was well positioned for a perfect Kodak memory and their burka wearing mother, happily smiling.  

 I was vividly reminded of the loaf-sharing trio from the Mongala Mall. 

 I should point out that: on the very same scorching afternoon sun, I did not, for once, think of the trio when I happily paid for my £3 meal deal at the nearby Spar Convenience Store.