kinship
on the bus today I saw a man industriously folding his bus receipt into a crack in the seat rests, neatly, with all the intense, studied concentration of an origamist. he looked up from his masterpiece, caught me staring at him with undisguised amusement, and gave me an embarassed grin. my eyes went to my own bus receipt, twisted into a cone shape and perched neatly on the windowsill beside me. we exchanged a knowing look. I live for moments like that with strangers.