She waited to cross, a lump in a pastel dress. Her tights and shoes were meant for moving. She flexed her fist, pumped it when I drove past her. She looked twice, both ways, before crossing the street. Her hair was wild in the wind. I wondered where she was going, why she was smiling, with her backpack stuffed full and bulging.
At the Red Light
March 13th, 2007 — Dream Life