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Bus stop, Telegraph and Grand

September 30, 2009

“Where’s your shoes, sister? You’re going to get gangrene on your feet.”

“Don’t even start with me,” the old woman groused. “I don’t want to get upset.”

“I’m just looking out for you, sister,” he said.

“I don’t have no money for the hormone pills,” she said, pushing her shopping cart back and forth from her spot on the bus shelter bench. “I don’t want to wear my shoes because I’m too hot because I don’t have my hormone pills.”

He stopped chiding her then. He just nodded in time with the rocking of the cart.

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