Sleet Wheels

After making a quick stop at the bank this afternoon, I was crossing streets when I encountered a woman depending on a walker to get to the other side. Unfortunately, the city was smacked with sleet from all directions, enough to cause traffic to be more insane than usual. This increased the natural action of me walking beside her to lend a help even more, especially since the roads were toxic with slippery doom.
I was already on the other end for my destination until I decided to approach her.
"It's shitty out here. I'll help you cross the street," I told her, almost shouting to fight off the city sounds.
She didn't argue, for she probably figured that a hand would be most useful. She donned a humongous leather coat, with the top of her head shielded by a hat and her legs and feet by an oversized pair of pants and low-top shoes, a crime against the dangers of the winter season.
We didn't speak much. Our finals words were pleasant and she thanked me, but it was disheartening to witness a person, one in need of assistance, enduring so much by their own strength that it renders the journey of crossing a simple street to be impossible.
I named her Sleet Wheels, because it has a catchy ring to it.

The Woodman by Loyola

Shortly after a tense confrontation with a friend, I made my walk toward the Loyola Red Line stop to await for my ride. "I'll be there in six minutes," he had told me, so I took a seat right outside the train station and reflected back on the encounter with my friend.
Deep in thought and utterly distracted, I looked up and attempted to find something that would take my mind off things. An interesting character of the hipster trend soon walked out with his peculiar wooden bicycle. He was either an employee or the owner of a wood shop - an ad for one in particular was placed on the side of a wooden container behind him, atop of the bicycle's seat. And the bicycle itself was crafted almost primarily in wood, with metal components to hold the necessity wooden parts together. An innovative machine, the Woodman's choice of transportation had caught my eye, and I was finally intrigued by a hipster and not coated with annoyance and malicious thoughts. A full beard tied at the tip, buttoned-up patterned shirt tucked in underneath tight blue pants, and noticeable boots echoing the cliché hipster fad. My encounter was short-lived, but I was glad nonetheless to have witnessed this man.
I named him the Woodman for obvious reasons.