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Weekly Contest #341
The old woman limped along, hunched over a wooden stick. She wore a particularly hideous, shapeless grey cloak with the hood pulled over her head, with wisps of white, stringy hair sticking out. She was ignored as she shuffled by; men and women avoided her gaze. It was hard to say what repelled people more – the stench emanating from her person or the air of desperation that surrounded her. Or perhaps it was her age. No one noticed old people. Even in plain sight, in a crowded marketplace, she was nobody. This fact might have disheartened mo...
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