The Daily Walk

The marked woman moved through the crowd. Not one soul acknowledged her but all gave her pointed glances. Whispers were sung from ear to ear, moving faster than a starved fire on dry bark. She continued her lonely procession knowing it had to be done. Keeping her head high showed all there was not a tear in her eye. She set her jaw and kept her eyes straight. Her mask covered her fear that nearly boiled to the surface. Thus was the daily walk of a marked woman.