With a hint of sadness in her voice she extended her arms over her legs, obscured by a pleated white dress and adorned by brightly colored roses, and said ‘with this?’
It was as if somehow her legs had betrayed her and had left her perched on the edge of this concrete planter in the mall.
I saw her as we approached through the maze of an old mall, newly refurbished to brighten the aging structure. White on yellow . . some blue. She was seated on the edge of the planter with a faint smile on her face. Her faded yellow hair was going gray, set off only by the bright dress.
She spoke and laughed in muted tones. I had a hard time understanding what she was saying, but nodded and smiled.
For one moment she came to life. She had come from London to meet her future husband. A vein of glitter in her nondescript existence. She thought about her daughter. Smiled.
There was some happiness that shone through for an instant. Did she really find some happiness?
I realized that it was not her legs that she was referring to when she said ‘with this?’