On the curb is an office chair, the seat gone. Nearby, a couch, the cushions taken.
Giveaways ruined. Why?
From my car, I spot the missing pieces crossing the street in a woman’s arms.
The woman settles under the awning of a long-shuttered store. On the sidewalk, the cushions quickly become a mattress, the chair seat a pillow.
Now, I understand.
Parking alongside, I grab my raincoat and quietly lay it atop her.
As I get back in my car, I hear “Merry Christmas. God bless.”