Woke up this morning and after feeding the cats, took a look out the window. Across the street in front of the shoe model's house, on the strip of grass between sidewalk and street, something sizeable was heaped up -- leftover from Friday's trash pickup? Then it moved and I realized it was a young woman, laying curled up on her side, hands tucked between knees, sleeping rough.
I wondered if something had gone seriously wrong over there; went to get my phone to call our neighbor, The Democrat, and took another look out a different window. Yep, still there.
She was gone by the time I had my phone out and went to take a third look.
Someone sleeping off a night of excessive revelry? Roseholme Cottage is a fair walk (and longer stagger) from the bright lights and ready libations of "downtown" Broad Ripple, but it's possible. Homeless? Also not impossible. Runaway? Maybe.
Odd. And a bit worrying. I hope she's all right.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago