a finger taps the top of my page. i look up.
“this is a good one.”
“yea, i’m really liking it. there’s been a lot of mixed reviews, but i’m feeling this.”
“she was here in november..”
“i saw the poster but…”
“i mised it. (too, presumably)”
“have you read her collection of essays, changing my mind?”
“no-but i’ve been meaning to.”
“get that. thank you.”
fur-lined hood up, naked hands clutch longboard, one last smile and he was off the bus. yea to talking to strangers on public transit.
vehicle: 29 bus
duration of encounter: alma to dufferin jog
definite book tie-in: n-w by zadie smith
soundtrack in my brain: the minstrel show (little brother)
“she got that two thousand minute plan, calling her minute man…”