It was a cloudy day with lonely wind. The leaves of the jasmine bonsai at Mrs. Denson’s window had turned yellow early in this late summer. Some leaves falling on the balcony were swept by the wind. They floated through the Alton Square and fell down in Caesar Park. They were partly buried under the soil. Leaves on the trees in the park were partly attached on the branches. If the wind blew stronger, they might have fallen. But they just hung there and swung.
 
Mrs. Denson wore a grey wig to cover her red sparse hair. She had a slim crooked nose. Every morning, she put her perfect false upper teeth into her mouth and wore peach-color lipstick. She had a Yorkshire dog. Her name was Molly. Joanna, Samuel’s girl friend, came to Mrs. Denson’s apartment at three o’clock every afternoon to take Molly for a walk. She could earn ten dollars every day. Mrs. Denson walked very little. Sometimes, when it didn’t rain, she would go out with Joanna and Molly and walk to the Park. Mrs. Denson talked very little. It was always Joanna talking about Samuel and her talkative mother. Mrs. Denson listened to Joanna and patted Molloy once a while as if telling her to be patient.

Mrs. Denson got up at five o’clock, one hour earlier than usual on this very morning. She needed to take a basket to Hambridge. After filling up the basket with fresh baked green cake slices, yellow frosted cut-out cookies, chocolate pecan butterballs, browned butter spritz cookies, assorted Brownie, butter crisp biscuits with pink strips and creamy custard-coated shortbread, she sat at her kitchen table facing the window and ate her scramble eggs and fried tomatoes. The morning radio was broadcasting Hesitation Blues. She was not a blues fan. However, she couldn’t help but notice the track was skipping and repeating “Tell me how long do I have to wait?” The disc jockey apologized for about thirty seconds. Perhaps he wanted to make up the time for the rest of the song.

Mrs. Denson finished her food, stood up, and took the dish to the sink. While she put down the dish, the knife she had used to cut the tomatoes and left next to the sink cut her right index finger tip. The cut was deep. It lifted a piece of skin on the finger but the skin was not complete detached. It hung there. Blood dropped on her blue dress which she put on for the trip to Hambridge. It became purple. She held the wound with a bandage that she took out from the counter drawer. She was not panic. Besides the reason that she used to be a nurse, she was not a little girl any more. She was able to handle the pain. She had to change her dress and she had to be hurry. Mr. Heart was about to pick her up. They had to go to Hambridge.

**The image is created by Bdeshini