Day 13 - The Pedestrian

Image by teddy-rised via Flickr

She was standing at the corner, looking like she wasn't sure which direction to go. Not much of her face was visible. She seemed to be deliberately hiding behind her long hair. From the color, it appeared she hadn't been to a stylist recently. There was too much gray among the dark strands. And the length also suggested that she didn't spend much time or money in a hair salon. With some coloring and care, her hair could be stunning. It was thick, long, and straight. The gray made her appear to be at least 40.

An average height, she wasn’t overweight. Given her attire, she might even have been underweight. It was cold outside, and she was dressed for it: blue jeans that appeared worn from wearing, not as a fashion statement; a denim jacket with sheepskin lining, probably a synthetic, worn over a too large plaid shirt, its shirt tail hanging well below the jacket instead of being tucked in for greater warmth. The jacket also seemed too large. Perhaps she had recently lost weight, or perhaps the jacket was not hers.

Her shoes were clean, white athletic shoes, likely evidence that she wasn't living on the street, although many of her mannerisms may have drawn observers to that conclusion, especially the way she lowered her head to keep her hair in front of her eyes as she glanced in all directions while she stood, waiting, hoping not to draw attention. She wasn't carrying a purse or bag. Perhaps she kept her cash in her pockets. That's where her hands were, either defending her fortune or for warmth.

Image by Paul Krueger via Flickr

The light turned green for pedestrians to cross, and she stepped into the street in front of my car. She glanced quickly in my direction, just long enough for me to see evidence that she probably had lost many of her teeth. The set of her mouth had the distinctive sunken appearance I recalled from Grandma after she had removed her dentures. As she turned away from me, I saw a long thread dripping from her nose, not out of place in the cold weather, although she made no effort to hide it or wipe it away.

She made her way across the street without hesitation, walking, not rushing, her body leaning forward as though the air was so thick she had to push her way through it. Then she was gone, the traffic light turned green for my direction, and I drove on.