|Operating System: Windows XP. Yeah, that's right. I'm rubbing it in, you silly Mac-type ex parrots.|
SocietyA frail, old black woman steps in front of me.Society by petroleumjelly
She wears an overly large, grey, tweed coat
A tattered beanie striped red and blue
Shoes so old I can't tell what color they're supposed to be
And a crumbling smile
Beneath a pair of wavering eyes
That once used to be sharp and alert.
She mumbles a few pleading words.
She wants change for the telephone.
Something about her kids.
She's worried about them.
Her voice grates on my ears.
I hear the faint twinkling of the ice cream truck.
No, it's just another siren.
My attention folds back unto the siren before me.
I begin to rummage about in my various pockets
Acting as if I have the change
I just need to find it to give it to her.
Her hungry eyes follow my every move
Though she's trying to hide it.
I really intend on giving her nothing, however...
Maybe I won't look like such a jerk
If I act like I intend to give her money.
I feel a hand on my shoulder.
I look back, and Dad shakes his head 'no'.
I miraculously find the loose cents in my