Maybe it’s the way her hips roll. Maybe it’s the mass of her slowly bouncing breasts. I have no idea, really. I just know that she has my rivetted and undivided attention. Unashamedly, I almost stare at her as she approaches.For some unknown reason, she smiles at me as she becomes aware of my gaze. That smile. It’s soft, warm, and genuine. Perhaps she enjoys being ogled. Maybe it’s her defence mechanism for situations like this. Or maybe she’s just genuinely friendly. Who knows? Whatever the reason, I smile back as I retrieve my cane from the back seat of the van. By the time I stand up again, she’s almost at the front door.Watching her make the last few steps to that door, I can’t help but look at her in a different light than I would usually see such a woman. In my eyes, she’s definitely not fat. Substantial, maybe, but fat? No, not to me. I suddenly realize that if she didn’t have that extra weight, she’d have very little visual impact for me. I question myself as to why that. She puffed on her cigarette, the red glow lighting up the windowframe and probably exposing her hideout if someone were to look up, but she didn’t care.Darkness began to fall, and with it the late summer cold crept up, sending a shiver over Katja’s arms and leaving goosebumps in its wake. She knew it was about time she fixed the broken window with a few boards before the autumn rain storms started, maybe she would gather supplies for that tomorrow.The butt of her cigarette tumbled downward and Katja went over to the old chair in the corner to fetch her old and beloved sweatshirt that had been with her for so long she didn’t even remember where she had bought it, only that it was one of few good memories from her former life.It had become increasingly thin over the years so she only wore it in here anymore, hoping to extend its life a little more. There was little left, only the Zippo lighter that was always out of gas, the Leatherman she had inherited from her father and funnily.
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