Inspiration in mysterious places

he lit his last cigarette as he leaned against the trunk of an old silver Buick le Sabre
He was just observing all the sights around him
but one in particular had caught his eye
as he thought about the last months and the games that have been played he could not help but admire what was standing in his view

Dressed in a pink shirt and pink sweatpants stood a woman with a bag in her hand
the other hand resting on the black bar of the gated fence of the courtyard in which she stood

most would tell him that upon their own viewing the woman was merely mumbling incoherently

he knew otherwise for he had observed her many times before this moment

it had to do with the bag and what laid inside
broken pieces of toast from the morning's breakfast

you see, this woman, as she always did, day to day, was feeding the birds

and to what she was speaking were her own memories
he would always listen very carefully each time so that he could understand the entire story

she was recalling a memory
One of which involved her grandmother
The two sitting together on a bench in the park by the lake feeding the birds and spending the afternoon together on a bright and sunny day

suddenly this woman made so much more sense to him

but on a few separate occasions the words spoken from her mouth would alter but still he did not see it as loose words being mumbled as everyone had thought

this time there were no birds yet she stood talking
but he knew better because he had gotten the same inquisitive yet puzzling looks from everyone around him

she was doing the same thing that he would do
she was praying