Everyday Objects: Trash

I once read an author’s explanation of how she came up with some of her stories: Look at an ordinary object. Is it really ordinary? Maybe that piece of paper floating on the wind is an alien. Why is it here? What is it looking for? Why does it look like a piece of paper.
I wondered what a piece of trash in the gutter might see. Here’s what I came up with.
I wondered if there should be several vignettes here, but I just went with the one. Is it enough? Any thoughts/criticisms? Let me know in the comments.

Gutter Garbage
Everyday Objects: Trash
I’m a piece of trash. I just lie here in the gutter. The rain falls on me, the cars roll over me, and every day, I degrade a little more. I’ve been here a while. Even though I can’t remember how I got here, I can still remember some of the things I’ve seen.
There’s the old woman who stands on the corner at midday, every day. She leans frailly against the lamp post, cane in one hand, looking for someone to help her cross the street. She grips an offered arm tenaciously when it comes, smiling and chattering all the way across the wide boulevard. I’ve seen her wait a long time for an arm to support her.
I think she’s just waiting for company…