Her gift

She hid her gift until it was ready. Seemingly obsessed with whatever she could find. Whatever we discarded or lost. Whatever broke off the edge of this polished and modern metropolis and landed next to her in the gutters. Hunched over on the side of footpath. Layers of old and darkened clothing. Once brightly coloured garments that would’ve clashed violently with each other have been subdued and pacified. They sit quietly and peacefully together. They sit with her amongst the smog, suits and skateboards. She fiddles and twists, with a look in her eyes that could frighten young children. A look that would make her legendary. Part of the scenery. Always there, unnerving and unapproachable but somewhat reassuring. Stepping over her legs as they jutted out from the side of the IBM building became part of our routine. A side glance. Quick and discreet. Curiosity will always prevail when we are surrounded by people as interesting as we must be to them. What is she doing? We are late for work, late for school, late for meetings, lunch and friends. She is always on time. Always there. Like clockwork. Clockwork with crazy eyes and busy hands.

The city becomes our habitat. It fluxes and changes but is ultimately at rest. Even in a place of such speed and movement we are creatures of habit. Change will pull teeth. And one day she was gone. The taxi drivers were the first to notice. On their early morning runs, driving us to the airports and bus stations. The street vendors were next, setting up their stalls and making sure they had enough to satisfy our hunger as we trudged towards our days. Slowly we finished our breakfast and emerged from our houses. Stepped off the buses and trains. Glanced over to see if today was the day we would see what she had in her hands. She was gone. So we stopped. We stood where she sat. The taxi drivers, the street vendors and us. I had spent days, months even years with these strangers. Strangers was just a word now. We knew each other better than we thought we ever could. On the flattened and worn piece of cardboard where she once sat, brought us together.