I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, the chill of the air biting at my fingers as I made my way to the bus stop. The world was still waking up, the soft hum of cars passing by and the crunch of my boots against the pavement the only sounds breaking the silence.
I was almost there when I saw her—a frail old woman struggling with way too many grocery bags. She was dressed like she had raided a secondhand shop blindfolded: mismatched patterns, a scarf that had seen better days, and shoes that looked older than I was. Her hair stuck out in all directions, wild and unkempt, and her muttering to herself was doing nothing to make her seem less unhinged.
I told myself to keep walking. I really, really did. But the can of soup she dropped rolled straight into my path like fate was nudging m
