Where did she go?
We'd pulled into the dollar store, shopped, and pulled out again.
Did she have family? Did they know where she was?
This was downtown, in the middle of stores and traffic. I imagined she had a few dollars and change in hand. Perhaps, she was getting something to eat—or maybe something to relieve her pain.
She wore a marshmallow type coat, brown. Nothing covered her silver hair. It was getting late. It was getting chilly.
I had seen her slowly crossing a gravel lot, far in the distance. Then she was gone. Her thread crossed mine, pulled it taut for a fleeting moment, and then it slipped away.
Image: Copyright 2012 Gina Fairchild
This is interesting. I've had similar experiences of seeing a person and wondering about their life. The title and all of this ties together nicely, and I like that I'm still left with questions. :)
ReplyDeleteI love to speculate about strangers. Who are they? Where did they come from? Where are they going? Especially if our eyes meet, and there seems to be a connection. Did we know each other in a former life? Are we destined to meet? Your example is a wonderful example of how a brief moment can make an impression that lasts.
ReplyDeleteWelcome to the blog, Lanise! It's the questions and the search for answers that spark the tales we tell. The more the better.
ReplyDeleteHello, Susan. I didn't use to be so observant about strangers until I started writing. Now, I find myself taking mental notes on just about everybody.