THE WOMAN DOWN THE HALL _ Lily Hoang

To the small girl, I repeated, “It’s cold out here, outside.” I said, “Dear child, won’t you let me into your house? It’s quite warm in there I can tell. From your eyes, I can tell that there is warmth tucked directly behind you, if only you’d let me come in.”

The child continued to look beyond me. I was certain that she did not flinch when I began to speak. This, I am quite sure, is no small feat because it has been a great while since I have had the pleasure to engage in oral hygiene. It is nothing personal. There is, in fact, little more that I would like than to be able to wrap some floss around my fingers.

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Once, when I was old, I knocked on a door because it was snowing. Because it was cold, I was wearing nothing but tatters and fragments, and when the door opened, I asked to enter. I was very old back then and could barely walk and yet somehow, I managed to travel quite a far distance simply to knock on this door. When the door opened and a maliciously smiling girl appeared, I found myself suddenly energized. Her eyes were fire, and looking at me, I was warm.

    To the small girl, I said, “It’s cold out here, outside, but you have shared your warmth with me, and now I am no longer so chilled.”

    The child looked just beyond me. She barely bothered to notice that my lips were once again beginning to chatter, and although I wanted nothing more than to push her down and run towards the flickering fire behind her, I smiled the kindest emotion I could.

    She said nothing.