Twelve Zero Three

The December summer is over. No more bare feet, nor shorts; no more cotton dresses. No more raising our windows, to let in the fresh air. Winter, finally, had arrived! In the Post Office, Me All bundled up against the cold. A coat . . ., with a fur lined hood, Gloves, knee high socks, under wool pants, and boots. Out the corner of my eye, I saw another in the lobby. I turned to the lady, to “remark” about the cold. Then I saw it, her. She had no shoes, only sandals,. . . no socks, . . .not even stockings. She wore only a short sleeved dress, one for the summer. Understandably? . . . I decided against my remark. The lady was mailing something, to Progress Energy? . . . for heat?!!!!! I turned away, almost in shame; went to the counter. I still wanted to say something: . . . come home with me? . . . let me buy you a coat? . . .what? . . . I didn’t know what. I turned again, she had disappeared. . . . like the December summer.