She is dressed in a pair of old shorts and a T-Shirt that looks like a sack on her small frame. Tangled hair, sunburned features, dusty feet and hungry look yet there is nothing ordinary about her. There is none of the innocence, the all trusting faith that you see in children her age, but she can be very persuasive when she wants. She had learnt that you needed some skills to survive and had learnt it the hard way.
Slowly she walks the street up and down, trying to find someplace safe, away from the lecherous eyes that kept following her. She wonders if she should risk one of the neighbouring garages…the dogs are malicious, she may not be lucky to get away with a minor bite this time, maybe she can sneak in quietly and away from the mean brutes. Well, if before nightfall she does not find a better place….it has to be the garage.
Earlier that day she had “taken” a couple of apples from the fruit vendor, would have preferred to pay for it but did not have any cash and was too proud to beg. She must find something to do and makes a mental note to ask the restaurant owners, maybe dish washing or mopping the floor or the tables just anything that will pay. She will do that first thing tomorrow.
Munching on one of the apples, she gives the street another round. The dogs are quite now, it’s her chance to sneak in and find a nice corner to doze off. Thank god it’s still summer…..must prepare for the cold of the winter though, tomorrow she will think of something, right now it’s an effort to keep her eye lids from dropping.
Before the faint lights from the street disappears from her sight she has a vision of a soft bed, softer voice and a nice, warm fire in the hearth….she must find her way home soon…tomorrow she will find a way….tomorrow.
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