The Lonely Lady

Someone laying on the ground caught my eye, they looked as if they were drowning in the layers of blankets ontop of them. At first it was hard to distinguish whether this person was a woman or man; but when her head poked up, I figured it out. This woman was named Sarah. She was in her fifties but looked twice as old.
Sarah lay on the floor as if she were planning on sleeping there; Shockingly i realized she was. Sarah wore a multicolored, oversized, knit sweater and black track pants. She wore a grey hat and black gloves. She carried a tin can with her that had dirty, rusty paint brushes. She liked to paint, she had one of her paintings with her and another tin can infront of it with coins. Sarah was a homeless, unclean, little old lady. She looked miserable and cold. In her eyes i sensed lonelyness and hunger.
Sarah had no family, she was not able to produce children and her only friend, her only companion, her only love passed away six years ago. Sarah was alone in the world. She sold her house once her husband passed away because she could not bare to live in an environment full of memories of him. The memories just sadened her more. She decided she would live her last years painting for the streets of Toronto. She refused to accept welfare. She just wants to live her last years painting and accepting that each day she will soon be closer to being with her husband again.