Friday, July 19, 2013

Old Glory

This morning, it was 95% by 8:30. As I was driving into work down one of the ugliest roads in New Jersey (and that's saying something) I passed a young woman who looked impossibly old.

She was lumbering along slowly and she wore a heavy jacket, probably layered underneath with every bit of clothing she owned. Homeless. She carried plastic bags that bulged with belongings and the sweat crawled down her ebony face. Her mouth hung open and she stopped to catch breath, looking up at the sun, offended.

In her hand that faced the roadside, she clutched a small American flag, tightly. Despite the many things she carried, she gave the flag her whole hand.

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