It was a cold and windy day, the kind of weather that can extirpate all one's strength, if one were to stay out for some time. The old woman's demeanor did not suggest that she could bear to be outside in such a harsh weather and yet she sat, with her head down, on the wooden bench in the park, without complaining, without a groan. She was dressed in black all over: black shoes, black trousers, black shirt, black overcoat and a black hat. It was a gloomy day, not a soul in sight, as if all life had been wiped out from the face of the earth. Her presence added to the day's obscurity and her black attire to the effect created by the dark clouds.
Every now and then, my thoughts went back to the wizened old woman. Maybe she was waiting for someone. Maybe she will go back when she can take no more. What was she thinking? Why was she alone? Is there something I can do for her? What had caused her to look so shriveled?
Was it old age? Maybe she had nowhere to go.....
