Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Why Would She...

I've seen her several times in recent weeks. She walks along the side of the two-lane, wearing a print dress, carrying a large white purse and wearing hose and nice shoes. It's always Wednesday when I see her: church night.

The first time I saw her I thought that was the explanation. There is a little church not far from where I saw her. It would be a tricky walk, uphill along a narrow shoulder, and over a steep hill, but a determined walker could do it. Then I realized she was walking in the opposite direction of the church. Was she going to wait in a different place, hoping for a ride? Did something happen that made her decide not to go to church after all?

I saw her again tonight. Her hair was fixed and looked nice, even in the humid pre-storm heat. She wore white shoes, and a blue-flowered shirtwaist dress. Her back was to me as she walked with a straight back up her driveway. I slowed down and watched her for a moment and then my life's responsibilities drove me onward.

But I carry her image with me. Who is she? Why does she dress up every Wednesday night and walk along the road? Does she ever reach her destination, whatever that may be? Perhaps you can provide a story for this lady. I am still searching, and still intrigued. Ask her? Of course I could, but I prefer to wonder why.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

4 comments:

Sue said...

I love the way you look for the story in everything...

=)

Granny Sue said...

I never thought of that, but you're right, Sue. I even make up conversations that the birds on a telephone wire might be having! And we make up backstories for people all the time. Like this: Guy standing beside his broke-down vehicle on the highway: "His car broke down because he spent all his money on buying Victoria Secret for his girl and didn't change the oil. And now she's dumped him and that's why he hasn't shaved."

Nance said...

I make up stories too -- about the people who walked away from the deserted house, or people who originally lived in a house, or the interaction and hand gestures in a conversation that I witness but can't hear. The bicycle left beside the road. But Sue, I don't believe I ever imagined the conversation between the birds on a telephone wire. But I think I will start!

Brighid said...

We need more stories around my place.

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