Tuesday, July 7, 2015
32. Waiting Impatiently
An old woman paces in front of an office building. Not well dressed, but not poorly dressed. She holds a bottle of water. Her face look careworn, or perhaps only tired. It is early. People are filing into work, their minds on the day ahead or the night just left behind. They might see her, or they might not. It is immaterial. If they saw her, and saw her face, and held out a hand to help, it would come to nothing. They cannot help her. She is waiting for the only person who can help her. Impatiently waiting, and wondering where she is. What is keeping her? Why is she doing this to me? Why is she always doing this to me?