old lady on subway

There is an old lady on the subway, of the type that wraps their heads in floral scarves and carries buggies with wheels. Her buggy is aqua ripstop, and I wonder if it contains her morning shopping or her worldly possessions. Or possibly a cat. She’s reading, staring down through filmy glasses at a book in her lap, a children’s educational book about birds. She is reading about flamingos, or possibly just looking at the carefully rendered illustrations. She gathers the folds of her long, down filled parka around herself with a shiver, as though her mind had meandered off somewhere the pink birds lived native and then, with a jolt, the salt stains on the subway floor reminded her that where she was, it is twenty bellow.