“A suspicious person walking through the area.”
Neighbors had spotted someone wandering near their houses and were already assuming the worst.
Curtains were moving. Porch cameras were probably recording everything.
Everyone was waiting for a prowler to get caught.
I pulled up expecting a thief.
Maybe someone drunk.
Maybe someone high.
Instead, under a flickering streetlamp, I saw an elderly woman sitting on the curb.
She was barefoot.
And wearing only a thin cotton nightgown.
The Woman on the Curb
She looked small and fragile in the glow of the streetlight.
Her gray hair was messy, and she was shivering so badly her knees kept knocking together.
When my cruiser lights washed over her, she flinched like she expected something bad to happen.
Then she looked straight at me.
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