She dipped her feet into pools of sunlight, swaying in the confident stride which carried her down the street. Those who crowded the markets parted before her, but there was no deference in their movements. Only the blithe autopilot that kept them from colliding with a dozen things a day, the notice of and reaction to all that passed through the corner of their eyes.
There she lived and moved, and always would. On the periphery, registered just long enough for them to decide that she was worth ignoring. Their eyes drifted from her and a smile teased the corners of her lips, turning her nose to all the sweet freshness of the morning.
Baki