It was a cold weekday morning. I was walking toward the coffee shop when I heard a voice calling me from across the street. I wasn't being called by name. Rather, someone was hailing me as “Sir.” I looked toward the voice and saw a woman crossing the street, walking toward me. She was of indeterminate age, with a smashed face, dressed in mostly pink, and clearly of the streets. What struck me first about her appearance was they way she wore her orange kids' tennis shoes: no laces and tongues sticking straight up.
Sir
Sir
Sir
It was a cold weekday morning. I was walking toward the coffee shop when I heard a voice calling me from across the street. I wasn't being called by name. Rather, someone was hailing me as “Sir.” I looked toward the voice and saw a woman crossing the street, walking toward me. She was of indeterminate age, with a smashed face, dressed in mostly pink, and clearly of the streets. What struck me first about her appearance was they way she wore her orange kids' tennis shoes: no laces and tongues sticking straight up.