This is a picture I did not take

of a woman in springtime behind a pancake house, sitting on the tailgate of a pick-up truck, her shoes off, toenails bright pink, swinging her heels while reading a book, her skirt a modest and smooth grey, her office clothes belying a lunch break in May spent reading in afternoon sunshine, in the naïve kind of sunshine that exists before rain, when a slow wind is the only giveaway that everything changes, as it curls from the West to cross the parking lot and gently push across her page.