Tomato Gravy

November 19, 2010

I first noticed her one day when she, mussy-haired and wearing a ripped Corsica t-shirt, reached into her bag and rubbed something between her fingers. As I watched her from the other side of the circle of tables, a stand-out in a sea of sameness, she pulled the thing further out of the bag. A blanky! She was¬†unselfconsciously¬†caressing a tattered blanky, and her enjoyment made me want to do the same. In that moment, I hoped that we could be friends. Read the rest of this entry »