I met her in Lexington center. She was walking. No, she wasn't walking. She was wandering. She was just there. When I approached her I asked to take her portrait. She could barely say the words "I don't speak English." After some improvised hand gestures and a bit of Charades, she agreed to having her portrait taken. It is times like these when I wish I could speak other languages fluently, or maybe even bring a translator along. What is her story? Why is she just walking around? Where is she from? Is she happy? Is she sad? These are the sort of things that I will always wonder and will maybe never even know.