Couldn't figure out how old she was. Between makeup and hair coloring, it was hard to tell. Anywhere from 60 to 75. Literally that wide a band. But as she got up out of the chair in the restaurant, there was the walker.The two younger ones walked out first. She was left to get behind the walker and get down the aisle and out the door. She was bent over. Her back was a bow. It had to be painful. She was always looking down.
She smiled at the hostess by the door. She thanked the hostess who held the door for her. The others were already out the door. She seemed sweet. She seemed gentle. She seemed understanding.
That was it. Nothing more known.
Could something have been done. Why wasn't something done. What was the story. There is always the story. Maybe no one's fault. It was just a scene that plays over and over in so many different places and so many different times. .
At what point can you not get it back. At what point is the dye cast. At what point do you demand an answer. At what point do you want your fair share.
At what point.