I reached my hands into the pockets of my thrifts store jeans and pulled back another woman's trash, her ailments.
As her Halls wrapper crinkled in my fingers I contemplated her struggles.
Drowning in a sea of chamomile tea and honey trying to inhale the sent of Vicks vapor rub over the smell of stale bed sheets and wilted flowers.
Was her path so different from mine?
Did she kneel in her wine stained carpet to watch her life move around her?