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Third person

A suffocating swirl of colour across dazzling displays of drastically low prices was serenaded by the squeaks of meek children and the crying of over used carts.

The world around her was expanding, crashing into her from all over.  The tight pressure of empty space was caging her in.  Though air was moving to and fro she was short of breath, she was dieing to catch it.

Old women passed her, showing no grandmotherly concern; small children and toddlers went running by not noticing that to the left of the cornflakes and to the right of the cocoa puffs, the washed out tear soaked corpse in the back of the cereal aisle.
That’s where he left her, where he ended it.  Never would she have guessed that something so innocent as grocery shopping could lead to an adulterous confession.
She couldn’t go home, at home the divorce papers would be waiting, and he would be gone.  Instead she opted to try and stay stuck in that moment in time, refusing to move on.

Thinking on it, she realized he had taken the wallet with him, and if she went home neither her husband nor any cereal would be waiting for her.

At that she broke out into hysterical laughter, chocked with sobs.  If she didn’t have the store’s attention before – she had it now.