She hobbled down the long apartment hallway, gathering about her sweaters and scarves, layer upon layer. Her translucent skin stretching over bony fingers as she carefully buttons up her long jacket. Hat, pinned on just perfect. In the mirror, she adjusts her wispy stormcloud hair and applies another layer of Dusty Rose lipstick from her handbag.
Keys in hand, she locks the door behind her and makes her way, painfully slowly to the elevator at the end of the hall.the bell rings, she climbs into the empty car and begins her descent. a few floors down, the car stops and an Asian couple get in seaking to each other in rapid punctuated words that she does not understand. She is frightened, change makes her so. She didn't used to get scared so easily, she recalls.
At the ground floor, she steps out gingerly, never quite sure of her footing off those elevators. The doorman, Jorge, greets her and holds the door for her and she continues her journey. No hope in flagging down a cab in this city. She stands at the corner and raises her gloved hand. all around her the cabs stop for the young, the beautiful. After 12 minutes, one cab stops and she crawls inside and tells the man the address. "i'm going to visit my friend" she tells the uninterested driver.
She looks out the window, lost in herself.
20 minutes later they are out of the city and driving into the country. The cabbie pulls onto a dusty lane and stops at the address given. She climbs out of the back and asks the driver to stay. "i'll pay you" she says. he nods, grabs his paper and lights a cigarette.
Not much has changed since she was here last week. She knows this place well, she has been coming for over 20 years. Finally she arrives at her destination. She crouches down, her knees and body creaking with the movement, and brushes away the fallen leaves.
b. 1923 - d. 1987
Husband, Father, Friend.
"Hello, Stanley" she says "Have you been waiting long?"