Snapshot of an Evening.
Jun. 29th, 2006 02:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drcuriosityThe city is wrapped in the cool embrace of fog. Supermarket bags in hand, I arrive at the bus stop at the same time as a young woman. She has poetry written on her black portfolio case - written in white-out, and I am briefly amused by the thought of verse written in a substance designed to conceal words.
I look idly through the music in the pocket of my hoodie, and surreptitiously peek at her prose. Some of it is written in Japanese. I have enough Japanese to recognise the words: "look" and "speak!" - which one does not often do, when one is waiting at a bus stop with a stranger late at night. Some of the poetry is quite good, and I consider starting a conversation...
...but then two vehicles pull up, and we're on different buses.
I look idly through the music in the pocket of my hoodie, and surreptitiously peek at her prose. Some of it is written in Japanese. I have enough Japanese to recognise the words: "look" and "speak!" - which one does not often do, when one is waiting at a bus stop with a stranger late at night. Some of the poetry is quite good, and I consider starting a conversation...
...but then two vehicles pull up, and we're on different buses.
