Photo Credit:Susan Spaulding
The bicycle lady sat under her umbrella. Nobody came to buy her flowers, but she didn’t come to the corner every day to sell flowers. She came to sit and watch the world go by.
Men stood on the Pharmacy steps, chewing and telling tales. Women and children waited for buses. Every day, the owner of the pharmacy brought her a cold drink in the morning and afternoon, lunch at noon.
She drew pictures of their lives in her head, sparked by a word or a walk, a gesture.
Until, one day, she didn’t.