Bundled up in multiple layers even on hot days, she sits with her arms folded and watches the traffic go by with an expression of defeat on her face.
I send her good thoughts and wish I could help, but where she sits there is no place to pull over and hand her at least a bottle of water. She isn't always squatting beneath the underpass, and when she is gone I hope she is at a shelter getting a hot meal at the very least.
Lately my writing has stalled to a slow drip, but inspiration still appears from unexpected places.
Hence, a new character is asking to be formed. I've named her Underpass Annie.
The character Helen manages a diner. She and most of my other characters have a soft heart for Annie, So far, Helen saves any leftover food each day in Styrofoam containers and discreetly sets them next to her dumpster because she knows Annie peruses her dumpster frequently.
So now I have to think how I'm going to flesh out Annie. She, like the other characters, has to have some sort of back story that ties in with the main plot, so this will give my creativity something to work with.
I can't begin to imagine being homeless. In this richest nation in the world it sickens me to think people are forgotten and left to live like discarded scraps of humanity.
Every morning when I DO write, I light my Inspiration Candle, and that really helps me get in the zone. Now, every time I light that candle, I'll say a prayer of thanks for my own good fortune. I'll remember the lady of the underpass, and send her my best.