Mrs. The Magic Dragon

I've seen her around - always wearing a Stevie Nicks style dress, hair long and brown but curled into a jangled mess around her head, walking with a shuffle that you can't tell if it comes from drug addiction, physical problems, or is just... Tired. Once I called for an ambulance after I observed her lying on the pavement in front of a bakery. As I watched through the window at the bar the ambulance came up to her along with a patrol car. When the police walked up to her she sprang up and started yelling at the poor officer that was just trying to see if she was okay. They took her into the ambulance and I didn't see her for weeks.

It was maybe six weeks ago when she briefly talked with me. The night was humid and a pervasive heat got on your skin no matter what you were wearing. After having a glass of wine I traveled outside of the building to my leaning spot to have a cigarette and she walked up to me. Mumbling.

She asked me for a cigarette and I politely said I couldn't spare one. Then the brief lecture started.

I shouldn't judge her, I was instructed. She was married to a Kennedy at one point and left him to open a diamond mine. I wouldn't understand how tough it was running a mine. Eventually she gave up on it and moved to Portugal, where she met her new husband. Puff the Magic Dragon. Again I was instructed to not judge her, and she walked away.

Every once in a while I see her walking around, and cannot help but to hum the song as she walks by. Quietly.

I'd never want to upset a former Kennedy.