Cold

Burr, I thought, wrapping my 30 year old herringbone scarf around the inside of my collar. It was cold out. Downtown Albany was gray, and shivering.

I stopped on the corner of 2^nd & Lyons, reached into my jean pocket, and pulled out a folded in half, five dollar bill. The day was damp, foggy, and below freezing as I approached.

I didn’t read her cardboard hand-scribbled sign. Her blue eyes met mine. They were oddly deep blue, full of life, and below them the weathered, rosy red nosed, chilled face of a woman who looked far too cold and entirely hungry.

I had the five in my hand as I asked, “You eat today?”

“No.”

“You spend this on booze and I’ll never give you money again.”

“I know,” she said.

She was looking right at me, staring into my bearded face, looking for trust. Looking for empathy. 
I handed her the money.

It was cold.

Winter At Downtown Albany