A Las Vegas Death on a Sidewalk: Her hands were swollen, her face like leather from the overly dramatic Nevada summers, her voice had a quiet whiskey sound to it and her hair a dirty blonde. Just behind her though, the shadow of a younger her… no lines, no age and perhaps a forgotten past. Her words were simple and thoughts non-complex.
She is tucked away on a Las Vegas side street, away from the eye of the public. Everything she owns is within an arm’s reach. Her makeshift home is the sidewalk of a closed down business next to a convenience store.
A bottle of urine sits next to her left leg, two empty cans of beer against the wall and an empty purse under her left arm. Behind her is a “Personal Belongings” bag from an area hospital.
“She wasted and grew so thin that she no longer was a little girl, but the shadow of a little girl. The flame of her life flickered so faintly that it appeared sufficient to blow at it to extinguish it. Stas understood that death did not have to wait for a third attack to take her and he expected it any day or any hour.”