She’s been standing on the sidewalk for about 30 minutes now. It’s cold outside. The cold that hits on those last few days of fall when everyone is realizing that this is it, winter is around the corner. She discretely waves to passersby. If you’re looking for it you’ll find it. I’m looking at her through my kitchen window. The window is over the sink and I’m doing my dishes. I don’t see her there everyday but enough that I recognize her now. She’s trying to look casual hanging around the bus stop. The cops drive by pretty often around here. Nothing about the way she looks screams prostitute. The movies lied. I wonder, is she a victim? Completely empowered? Probably somewhere in the middle…maybe not. Which of those two states makes me feel better about what I’m seeing? Isn’t that an odd thing to think. Prostitutes, hookers, sex workers, hoes, women just trying to get by, sassy women with big attitudes working their way through school, single moms also taking care of their elderly parents, abuse survivors, pretty women or women found by the side of the river in an episode of some SVU NYPD CSI show. Who is the woman I see through my kitchen window and what brings her out here on a Sunday morning?