At a traffic signal

A face behind the glass. Eyes shut and face made up. Like a corpse on it’s way to another world. She was colored grey by the glass.

Car’s honk and rev their engines. The signal isn’t red anymore. A girl run off the road, finding her bearings. She reaches for her coins; she still needs more money.

A woman wakes, feels cold in the air conditioned air and see prints of a little girls hands on her window.

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