Pat, revisited

We saw Pat through the store window again this morning, this time in her jammies but alert and taking in the bustle of the morning from the safety and stillness of her store. When I looked at her, she smiled back.

Now my previous Pat sighting doesn't seem quite as outrageous. That section of the store, I believe, is Pat's living room. So seeing Pat all sacked out on Thanksgiving morning isn't unlike randomly catching a glance through parted curtains of someone napping in their favorite recliner.

I must admit, if that store didn't have a visible exit, I might wonder if it was some sort of biodome experiment, or perhaps a wormhole to another time. But it's just a store. Pat's home. Where she's surrounded by things she loves. We should all be so lucky.

Next time I'll be sure to wave and mouth an exaggerated "good morning," like a good neighbor should.