Looking into the shop window as she often did, walking along the High Street. Not noticed by those passing by, the travelers in buses or the constant line of commuters, as it was always late in the afternoon when she visited. It meant people were always in a hurry to get to their homes, families or partners, and in a world of indifference they were certainly not really seeing a solitary woman.
She was always alone, well apart from her little fluffy companion. Sometimes she would carry him, other times he would walk on a thin lead. His little feet scurrying along as he would dance around her trying to avoid the giants walking past.
Casually she would walk along, looking in the windows. Sometimes pausing and closely inspecting items on display. If it was the antique jewellery store she might stay longer, feigning interest in a particular piece, as if she might just step inside, but then move her gaze to something else. Then slowly saunter on, checking her little companion was walking as well.
She was always dressed immaculately, and it gave the impression of going out to a late afternoon event or the evening at a restaurant, a party or even a nightclub. But that was never the reality.
From a distance and at a quick glance she could appear to be a twenty-something. Her tall thin stature made it easy to think that. Her hair was long, chest length but in a wavy cut that was stunningly well kept, ringlets cascaded over one shoulder. And even though sometimes her clothes seemed youthful at first, they didn’t seem out of place. But as can happen some would probably pass a different judgement or even rudely smirk.
She would move on, maybe to the fashion-label store front again, performing the dance of interest. Paying attention to one item in particular, sort of standing as if to compare, before moving on. Then off to the leather goods of designer bags and shoes. Each afternoon when she visited it was much the same ritual.
A business owner had noticed her previously, even speaking to her in that familiar store-service manner and asked if she could be of any assistance. But with a gentle smile was told, no she was just looking.
The woman was at least in her 70’s, the shop owner thought. Even herself questioning the choice of outfits as not really appropriate for a woman of that age.
But as she thought that, she was angry with herself for passing such a judgement. It seemed her disillusionment with her own life was making her cast cruel observations. So she watched as the woman and her companion moved on to shops further up the street.
She wondered what the woman was really doing and thinking about.
(to be continued)
(Copyright Kevin Palmer 2022, All Rights Reserved)