She walked with a halting gait. Her progress was labored, yet steady. The cool January breezes painted a rosy color upon her cheeks and the pinched her eyelids into a squint.

Arriving at the intersection of a side road she paused on the curb, looking in every direction before she stepped off the grassy right-of-way and onto the asphalt of the side street between the white pedestrian lines. Her eyes remained on the ground as thought she searched for some imperfection in the pavement that would entangle her footing.

The car was turning left from the center lane of the five-lane road. The driver was almost on her when he hit the brakes. She shuffled along. He screamed something from within the heated comfort of his SUV. He just didn’t see her.

A quarter mile further introduced her to the major intersection where two five lane roads intersected. She pushed the button for the cross walk and waited. The little man appeared in the box; once again gingerly she stepped from the curb.

On the other side she departed her parallel path to the road. She began to transverse the parking lot toward the super grocery store. She stopped twice as cars backed from their spaces, smiling faintly and nodding to the occupants as they pulled away. But they didn’t see her.

At the store’s entry she walked to the line of grocery carts. She reached for one when a much younger hand gripped the handle of her targeted cart and pulled it from the others. She mumbled, “I’m sorry.” But the lady didn’t see her.

She took her cart and proceeded to the side of the store. Reaching into the dirty woven bag suspended from her arm, she pulled forward a wad of papers. Among them was a penciled list. She placed it carefully on the child seat and headed toward the bread aisle.

The smile was evident as she found a two-for-one sale. On another aisle the oatmeal was marked down. Another smile graced her face. Each brand of rice was examined. Price per ounce was compared. One was selected. A generic liter of cola went into the cart. Stopping near the cosmetics she pulled out her pencil and began to add. Tabulation finished she moved toward the canned vegetables. But no one saw her.

At the checkout counter she placed each item on the conveyor belt with as much care as it had been a precious commodity. The cashier flicked each item past the scanner. The total of her purchase was the first words spoken to her. She handed the cashier a government food voucher which was greeted by a frown of disapproval. Transaction completed, she moved down to the place her bags sat on the ledge. The sack boy had not seen her.

From her large woven bag she now pulled a rolled-up back pack. Into it was stuffed all her purchases. Sitting it up on the ledge she backed to it and slipped her arms through. With a shrug of her shoulders the straps fell into place and leaning forward she headed for the door, pushing her now empty shopping cart. Pushing it into the enveloped line of carts, she turned and left. She’d been in the store twenty minutes, but no one saw her.

The hike home passed four churches. In the front yard of two teens played. In another they were cooking on a grill. No one saw her.