Her feet hurt as she teetered down another backstreet.
Tear or tears, from her eyes still sopping down her face.
Her mind wrapped in a ball of indignation and her feet stumbled, her knee grazing the sober ground.
Lay she did silent on the empty hollow street.
Beeping horns of taxi drivers echoed from another street that was deemed with aggression and frustration.
A deep in take of polluted air.
The capital this city was. And now the captive of her grief.
She rifled through her loyal handbag searching for some help.
Her brain engaged she found her phone
But what number to call she did not know.
She rose up and moved to the side
The steps were slow
And the voice was low
‘’ Are you Okay?’’