The Girl at Tiffany’s

The diamonds in the window were breathtakingly beautiful. It was Christmas time. The girl was about 14 years old, a tiny heap of bones and skin. She appeared to be black. Actually, grey.  She lay with her back popped against the foot wall of Tiffany’s. She was literally, practically naked. She wasn’t selling her body. She wasn’t panhandling. She was freezing to death. It was below zero; I was cold in my winter coat. Just her sight made my teeth rattle. The well-heeled, beautiful throng of diamond-shoppers quietly walked around her. I’m sure she was insane. How did she get there? I didn’t wait for the police or ambulance to arrive. Because they do arrive. Eventually. Then it all begins all over again. 

 

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.