“How are you today? “I said to the homeless woman standing near the bridge on my walk to my office. The cold early morning November wind whipping.
“Who are you?! “She said louder than necessary. She seemed startled. “How do you know me? For a moment I thought, oh here we go. My ability to pluck what some would call iadventure, others trouble, smart people would realize was the universe or black magic or bad luck in every encounter where I foolishly left myself open.
“I see you on this corner every weekday morning.” I said. “We walk to work together, you and I.” I said, smiling. I saw her face widening in a toothless smile.
It was true. I saw her often on the corner at the same time every day.
“Yesssss…” She said cackling and smiling. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“You can see me.., she said, in a strange singsong way that very young children and demented people use. “Not everyone can.”
Her voice trailed and she turned to walk away. So did I.