Went to Wegmans to wonder a little. I wondered by the bulk candies first. Along the aisles of blue gummy sharks, peach rings, and nonpareils I wondered what it might be like to live in a world where people needed each other more. What if driving required two people? What if shoelaces could only be tied by third graders! Things would be different. I wondered in the bakery after that. By the macaroons and birthday cakes I wondered why certain people talk very little, while other people don’t stop. I wondered where on the spectrum I fell while watching a man in a funny hat throwing dough at the countertops. He was making such an important mess! His hat looked like the dough, too, and I wondered what it must be like to love something so much you wanted to wear it on top of your head, but I only wondered that for a second, before the lobsters caught my eye. Free the lobsters! I thought, watching them topple over one another, brandishing their claws against the glass. I wondered how many people in the world weren’t sure if anyone loved them. I began to look around, at all the people, and wondered what, on a person, might give such a thing away. My four-year-old was with me. He’d been with me the whole time, wondering things, too, I’m sure. Everyone was. He pointed to the lobsters and said, “They look like they’re ready to die.” About which I wondered how he’d come up with such a thing, but not so much as knew: I told him once that looking at the lobsters made me sad. That the lobsters in the tank were soon to be cooked and eaten. He was more fascinated by this than scared, and that made me wonder, too, about what the world would be like if we never developed a fear for dying, and whether, without that fear, we would still wonder about it all the same.