Sorry about reading the letter you were writing, but it's not my fault you were scribbling in public. Particularly because any concept of private space is diminished on da bus yo.
I spied...:
Dear Vicky,
I don't know what to say. Thinking about you drives me insane and my brain is triggering the smell of lavender everywhere. I can't believe it's been 5 weeks since we last spoke.
He spent the rest of the ride with his head in his hands. I don't know. That's not really sad to me. This is not because I have a salted duck gizzard (sooo delicious!!) for a heart -- if you know me, you'd know that I'm very inconveniently sentimental -- but he just emitted such feelings of uselessness that I really could not empathize. He wasn't going to send the letter. SEND THE LETTER! (Or, should he send the letter? I always send the letter, so perhaps I cannot determine...)
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3 comments:
I love reading about your experiences on the trains here :)
Got yo postcard yo
It made me very very happy! I was smilin the whole rest of the day.
Hilarious.
Maybe you should try talking to people to spy on next time. Be an impromptu shrink.
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