“I like this one.”
“It has a hole in the pocket.”
“It reminds me.”
“Of what?”
I never answer immediately.
Because the answer is complicated.
It reminds me of hunger.
Fear.
Rainwater dripping through a ceiling.
My son whispering that he was cold.
My daughter pretending she wasn’t hungry.
But it also reminds me of the woman who walked downtown with nothing left except determination.
The woman who entered a billionaire’s mansion without qualifications.
The woman who unbuttoned a stranger’s shirt and found seventeen years of buried truth hanging from a silver chain.
The woman I used to feel sorry for.
I don’t anymore.
I respect her.
Because she kept walking.
And sometimes, keeping walking is the thing that changes everything.
💬THE END! THANK YOU FOR READING!
