Her bag looked like Joseph’s dreamcoat to him.
She stood next to him on the subway every morning. He took the train to work; he couldn’t imagine where she might be going. She was stooped and tiny and grey; it looked to him like she could have retired at the turn of the century – the 19th century.
Her hair was often done up in curlers, neon green curlers, the kind that a granddaughter – in this case surely a great-granddaughter – would use when playing make up with granny. Her dress was a sack that dragged the floor; it was faded, but its pattern was striped like the bag she carried.
One thing that intrigued him about her getup – though the dress was faded like she had worn it for fifty years or more, the bag that matched looked like she had just picked it up from the shop the other day. Brand spankin’ new.
One day a couple of toughs came into the car. He knew they were up to no good before they approached him. When they pulled a knife, the granny pulled a wand out of her bag and set them to righteousness!
Cover Shot – The former passenger depot in Hoquiam, Wash., as seen during my #wednesdaywalk last week. You can view 11 more photos from the walk here: @cliffagreen/wednesday-walk-railroad-edition