Taking the local C downtown today. The locals are good when you’re editing. Left the house early to have time to get things down. Woman next to me wearing a red coat with big buttons scribbling something in a notebook of her own. It’s cold and everyone just has their heads down for the winter. She and I are squished up together. We can’t help but touch. It’s awkward and neither of
Through the pages. Moving stories around. Finding characters within characters.
A woman sits down with her baby dressed up in this little bear suit. Everyone smiles slightly but can’t warm up enough.
The baby sticks it’s hand out of the little bear arm and starts playing with the button, which is actually bigger than the child’s hand.
Woman stops writing down her thoughts and her face melts into a smile.
I think there is a piece of everyone in that moment who wishes for the ability to be that free. To do what they feel, but it doesn’t exist.
The touch causes reflection of everyone.