Emily Pedroza — tales of a (once chicken) old woman

There once was an old woman who liked to walk down busy streets. Perhaps in those moments,
she was offered a lick of youth—savoring the loud drums of adrenaline, cars honking. Either
that, or she was just insane. Maybe a bit of both.

One day, she walked into a traffic-filled street, her eyes unable to detect the truck flying at her.
The blue paint matched her Hawaiian blouse, white flowers rippling. Her body topped over.

I’m still unsure whether the crunch came from her, or her cane.