A Place Without a Witch -- Chapter Five

One day in early March, Gemmy suddenly found herself unable to face yet another lunch in the cafeteria. She left her apple and her tahini-and-lettuce-on-sprouted-wheat sandwich inside the office fridge and went for a walk down Constitution Avenue. Turning on impulse towards the Capitol, Gemmy walked past one government building after another, glorying in the sun and the fresh breeze, enjoying every daffodil and tulip that she passed. She watched a few brave souls flying kites on the grounds of the Washington Monument. “You could charge, them,” Gemmy thought, idly, “and fly them around DC to release the energy.”

A block off of Constitution, Gemmy discovered an honest-to-Goddess food truck selling honest-to-Goddess spring rolls. She couldn’t really afford the splurge, she told herself, as she stood in line and debated the lemongrass rolls and the cilantro shrimp rolls. But today was special; she felt like a little girl let out of school and, what the heck, “I’ll have the lemongrass rolls,” Gemmy told the young man standing at the food truck window. “Two lemongrass rolls, for the pretty lady,” he said, taking her money and handing her a bag. Gemmy smiled and turned to look for a bench when the old woman wearing three coats and a tam-o-shanter tapped her on the shoulder.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said.

Picture found here.

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