Cultures In Clash

The steady murmur of foot traffic
and clatter from crowds of shoppers
interrupted by a shrill staccato of a
child's deliberate wailing, the
decibels rising with the intransigent
stubbornness of a parent to a child's
unheeded demands though no
reciprocating demands of obedience
and behaviour are heard, as the
stone-faced mother hauls the tiny boy
alongside her stride, with three
little girls giggling close behind.
Someone is heard to mutter 
"Shut that kid up!", but no one
could and no one does, the mother
oblivious to the grumbling censure
that surrounds her. A dense, dark mood
descends as the children slip impishly
under clothing racks, calling to one
another in an unidentifiable tongue,
clearly not intimidated by the stares
and glares of opprobrium as adults
pull their shopping carts abruptly aside
to avoid disastrous issues of young
flesh meeting steel as they pop up
mirthfully from areas concealing
their presence in a game geared to a
playground which the establishment
has clearly been transformed into, and
all but one adult, who remains serenely
content her children are engaged in
play leaving her free to peruse the
goods, is righteously outraged.