Christmas Carol by Clabe Polk
A cold wind blew the last of the oak leaves careening down the street bouncing on the uneven pavement and manhole covers. Streetlights lanced the gathering darkness as the last vestige of twilight fell behind a tall building causing lengthening shadows to shiver down the allies consigning service entrances to darkness. One of the shadows, amplified by a street lamp, was that of a woman ambling apparently aimlessly from shadow to shadow down the street. The shifting lighting concealed her features. Daylight would have revealed a short woman of indeterminate age, hunched over, hugging herself against the cold wind. An army field jacket zipped to the throat covered a dirty, tattered hoodie; her thin blond hair, mingled throughout with streaks of gray, was covered tightly by the tightly closed hood. Stumbling briefly, she half-hopped onto the curb and scurried through the patchwork of lights and shadows cast by the storefronts 57
