A Las Vegas Death on a Sidewalk: Her hands were swollen, her face like leather from the overly dramatic Nevada summers, her voice had a quiet whiskey sound to it and her hair a dirty blonde. Just behind her though, the shadow of a younger her… no lines, no age and perhaps a forgotten past. Her words were simple and thoughts non-complex.
She is tucked away on a Las Vegas side street, away from the eye of the public. Everything she owns is within an arm’s reach. Her makeshift home is the sidewalk of a closed down business next to a convenience store.
A bottle of urine sits next to her left leg, two empty cans of beer against the wall and an empty purse under her left arm. Behind her is a “Personal Belongings” bag from an area hospital.