I watched an old woman help a blind man find a seat on the bus the other night. One day last week, I saw only my feet on the way to the train. I almost missed it; it was then so packed I saw nothing but the rain streaked windows all the way to my stop. Yesterday morning, I think I saw a young man help a blind woman dodge a bus on the street. Everyone smiles when it’s warm outside, but last night it was too hot for me to sleep.
I drank an iced coffee at four o’clock yesterday afternoon and watched couples hold hands. Girls wore bikinis and boys took off their shirts. I couldn’t find my sunglasses and thought a lot about the color of my hair.
I looked at a dog with a scrunched face and wondered whether or not that child next to it dressed herself this morning. Thirty minutes before that I had checked the weather forecast on my phone for the first time in months and left my clean clothes to wrinkle in a basket on the floor.
Nobody else in my building opened any of their windows. I wonder how they feel about the smell of Spring.