In the mornings we see her when she passes by our building on foot, one hand clutching the handle of the wheeled, soft-sided suitcase that rolls along behind her. Sometimes she pauses to gather herself in a quiet corner of our strip mall, near a lamppost. She shifts her belongings from one arm to the other, then walks east, past Bikram Yoga, Fairy Tale Fantasy, Ichiban, Mike Kobeissi’s new office, Jersey Mike’s and Penguins.
She rounds the corner and heads up Oakwood toward the public library. I’m told that once there, she waits until the library opens so she can lock herself in its restroom to wash up before taking on another day. Sometimes we see her after her morning ritual, again passing by our office, then heading west on Foothill to a destination unknown.
I don’t know her age, although her gray hair, lined face and weary gait tell me she’s a senior.