The fingers of her right hand, the one closest to me, sported three obnoxiously big rings, all of them gold. One by one, she kept twirling them around. Age-wise, I estimated her between thirty-five and forty-five. Her skin stretched a bit too tautly around her temples so I guessed she’d had some work done, but not to the point where it looked completely unnatural.
What drew me in most was that big shock of ginger hair. It stretched out beyond her frail frame, reaching out to the world around her, contrasting her self-sufficient body language.