Or perhaps..

For the fourth consecutive day she was standing there. I was on my way back from work. She was at the exact same spot, by the traffic island, leaning on to the rails and staring at the setting sun. The same expressionless face, the same shabby clothes and perhaps the same set of flies for company. The long hair falling on to her face could not fully hide the bruises. She was mumbling something to that invisible friend of hers every time I saw her.

Should I thank HIM for putting her there instead of me?
Or should I be questioning HIS rationale in playing with human lives?
Or attribute all this to chance?
Or perhaps she was different once..... and it is just us?

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