Five Minutes

I knew her for less than five minutes.
She was in a wheel chair and being pushed by someone, a friend? a sister? I saw her approaching and did the head to toe assessment that nurses do to everyone. She was bald, shaved. An ugly scar from the crown of her head to the top of her right ear indicated recent brain surgery. It looked as though something was implanted just under the skin. Disturbing in its unnaturalness. Her eyes were dark. She had on a sweat suit that hung on her, causing me to presume recent weight loss. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her fingers had a waxy cast. A ring on the right hand, left ring finger bare. About my age? Yes, give or take.
As we draw within speaking distance, I smiled and said "Hello there." She smiled back widely. "I love your shirt!" she exclaimed. I was wearing my official Thanksgiving turkey shirt. It's bright blue with orange pumpkins and silly fat turkeys. "Thanks, you can't miss me; can you?"
"You have just reminded us all to get off our butts and get ready for the holidays! What a great time of year, isn't it?"
And away she went, wheeled by her companion.
Not even five minutes.

Job 8:21 He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.