The Woman

I was driving downtown the other day when I saw something, or rather someone, that quite surprised me. At first, I thought the woman was just an old, unhealthy smoker, talking to a homeless man sitting on a bus stop bench. Soon, however, I figured her to be much more. She didn't quite look like a woman. When I first saw her I thought she was a man. Her hair was short blonde, colored with a bit of gray and black in it. It was tattered and messes as though she had come out of a tornado. The hair was a tornado itself. Her clothes were basic denim pants, a button up shirt, and a vest. The clothes were baggy and dirty. For a moment I thought I saw a ame tag on her. Perhaps she did come from a care home. After what happened next, it seemed highly possible. It became evident that she was a woman, or at least was trying to be one. She thrust about from place to place. Here a thrust, there a thrust. Every once in a while she would pose, and thrust again. It was like she was trying to be picked up by some sick, perverted person, man or woman. Then, like a snake, she stuck her tongue out. But she did it randomly in the open. There was nothing sneaky about her. She was right out in the open. I thought it obscene, but a touch of compassion reached my worn out heart. I couldn't stop, though. The light had turned green and I had to continue driving with the rest of the traffic. I left the crazed woman behind, but she remained on my mind for days to come.