At Fifth and Market
An old woman sits at a window. A street runs below her. It once shuttled fattened taxis past her building. Now buses, on natural fuel, run silent as fog.
Men, one day, stopped wearing hats. Young people dressed without buttons. Taxis lost their hips. In its center, a mirror grew a round spot, like a coin fused to a fountain.
The demolition crew comes. Window, she thinks, you’ll give up before I do.
Words by Mylène Dressler
Photo by Bruce Barone
(Your prompt: Find a photo that moves you, and write a story in 100 words or less inspired by that image.)
Causes Mylene Dressler Supports
The Women's Media Center