28 2001 |
"OH!" I exclaimed, surprised to see the front door open.
She was carrying a large patchwork quilt. The quilt's size required her to enter the apartment backwards, opening the door by leaning on it so that both hands are free to keep the quilt from falling. You can't tell her age by looking at her, but she is definitely older than me. With her heavy coat on, bundled against the cold, it looked like she was having trouble keeping the quilt from falling.
I saw her glance down at the strewn shoes on the floor under her feet, surprised at the mess I had left in her path.
"Hello?" I said.
Her eyes met mine, and her jaw dropped open.
"OH! I'm sorry - wrong apartment!"
With that, she was gone.
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