why are we taking food to her house?
well she needs help.
why does she need help?
she is sick and can't get out to get food for herself.
what about her husband?
he died a few years ago.
so she is alone?
streaming through the window, a sun beam illuminates the dancing particles of dust, that once would have caused her angst to clean, but now keeps her company in the barren silence. fingers trace the pattern on the olive blanket, just to experience the feeling of another against her parchment skin. tired eyes turn to birds on the wire, an audience to her days, what may be left before she sees him again. running a whitening tongue across her course lips, she reaches for the solitary glass of water, standing sentry on her bedside table, a refreshing break in the day.
do we know her?
not really, just someone that needs someone.