Her solitude is as prominent as the cross around her neck. You could be persuaded you’d never seen her before, even if you passed her daily. You could be persuaded you saw her every day, even if you’d never passed her before. You’d ask her for directions; you’d tag her with a name like Susan and with a job in accounting; you’d assume that she keeps a bird feeder. She could be your neighbor. She could be your relative. She could be anyone.
