Spring Equinox Challenge 2010
Rich
Marie hurries down Broad, then stops, frowning into a Starbucks window. A latte hovers above the blemish she tried, in vain, to conceal.
“I was rich once, too!”
Gasping, Marie looks down at the old woman hunched between the storefront and her feet. Then she fishes through her purse; normally, she buys them coffee (no use throwing money at addictions), but she has a breakfast meeting.
The woman, however, tosses the coins to the ground. “Tulips,” she sings, her voice operatic, “don’t grow from cement!”
Marie stumbles away, pulling her jacket tightly about her. The winds, this March, seem colder.
Marie hurries down Broad, then stops, frowning into a Starbucks window. A latte hovers above the blemish she tried, in vain, to conceal.
“I was rich once, too!”
Gasping, Marie looks down at the old woman hunched between the storefront and her feet. Then she fishes through her purse; normally, she buys them coffee (no use throwing money at addictions), but she has a breakfast meeting.
The woman, however, tosses the coins to the ground. “Tulips,” she sings, her voice operatic, “don’t grow from cement!”
Marie stumbles away, pulling her jacket tightly about her. The winds, this March, seem colder.