She was standing behind the bushes near the bus stop, her heavy bags piled around her. I startled her because I was using talk to text. I thought she was standing in the shade, waiting on the bus. She thought I was talking to her.

She was probably in her early 30s. She had brilliant white teeth that reminded me of Kip Winger. She had very muscular arms. Not just for a woman.

I apologized for startling her and she laughed. Continuing a little further down the trail, I sat on the transformer next to the trail to watch the birds and squirrels. It’s the time of year when the Russian crow makes his appearance. Though I did not think so the first year, by the second year I knew that he recognized me. He’s not made his appearance yet. When he does, I’ll know. His caw is spectacular and evokes the voice of an old Russian man.

After a minute of sitting there, I watched the bus stop woman laboriously walk past with her heavy bags precariously arranged around her torso. I don’t know where she was going or anything about her. Seeing people like that inevitably provokes curiosity. Though I did not mean to startle her again, I asked her if she needed anything. She laughed and said no, unless I had a wheelbarrow tucked into my back pocket.

I don’t know why I said it, but as she moved past, I told her, “One day you’ll find a place you call home to be happy.” She stopped and looked at me and replied, “Thank you. I’m weary to the bone. And I look forward to that.” And she smiled again, showing her brilliant white teeth.

She kept walking. I realized that the multiple bags she carried probably contained the remnants of her life.

Love, X
.