She steps off the train. Standing silently while dismantling her burden, the others filter through a scene of box cars and train conductors. A tiny crocheted pouch dangles from the edge of the pack - a collection of natural life to ward off negative energy and evil spirits. Next to it, a worn chinese coin for luck. She believes in it all and dismisses the fact. She has the necessary tools. They are manifested within these symbols of empowerment. They are pumping through her veins. Each red blood cell a lesson. Each nerve impulse a teaching.
The hotel is reminiscent of a boarding house 70 years past. A beer saloon occupies the ground floor. Of course, she can't even get a beer. Nice clothes and a cool demeanor can't fix time, she wishes they could though. The alternate - a satisfying venture. She had never seen mango and mint with fish before. Yet, eating alone is still strange. The city seems simultaneously bursting and hollow.
A locked room is safe. A window ledge is safe. A night-covered city street is not. No matter how much she tries, she will always be a woman. At times, this is too much to bear. She knows she has the tools, but what are her limits?
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