The Intersection - Drew Michael Marotte

Mixed Media
20" x 16" x 1"
 
The Intersection 
Bonnie T. Ogle
 
I smell her presence a block away. At the curb, I catch glimpses through the chaos of midday traffic, as I did Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. More than aromatic. Ostentatious. Her red hair, askew. A purple scarf intended to rein it in, adds to the riotous ruffle surrounding her head. With a sudden breeze, a swirl of color reveals bare ankles and evokes innocence.
Vapor emanates from her cart. It rises, wafting around her, infusing hair, merging with scents purchased from the drugstore cosmetic counter. 
Chaotically, distracted males jaywalk. Traffic snarls as cabbies jockey to catch her tantalizing flamboyance. She stands on tip-toe, searching through the crowd, sees me and waves, then blows a kiss. I smile back and, pursing my lips, stuff my yarmulke into my coat pocket, then cross the street to order one of her decidedly un-Kosher hotdogs, loaded.