She sat on the sidewalk, her back against the stone-like wall. A suitcase was next to the main door of the train station. The hair was short, dark and limp. It covered half her face.One hand held a black pen; it was in mid air, as if someone had stopped her from using it. The woman’s head resembled a doll with a broken neck. A notebook was on her right thigh. Had the woman’s eyes been open, she would have been looking at her dark jeans. Two cops stood by the curb.It was a beautiful late spring afternoon.