Touched.

Today was a mostly sunny day, and I went out, with high hopes, to get some supplies for the cherry-blossom bags.

I think the sun brought out some of the more unusual denizens of the city. I met one of them on the bus.

The woman in the blue tea-cosy hat had long brown unkempt hair. She was a happy soul, china-blue eyes wide and aware of everything around her. The politically correct term is ‘developmentally delayed’, but it’s more poetic and more fitting to her sweet demeanor to say she was touched by the fairies.

She sat behind me and asked, “What’s that book?”

I showed her the cover. “It’s a murder mystery. Only a really evil guy gets killed, so it’s a mystery but not too shocking. He deserves it.”

“Wow. So you read it before?”

I nodded. “But it’s nice to read the story again.”

She agreed that it was nice to do that sometimes. Then she asked, “Are your toes always so pink?”

I glanced down at my be-flip-flopped feet. “Yeah. They usually are. I can’t take them out in the sun much or they get pinker.”

“They’re cute. I’m going to North Vancouver, you know by the garden centre? They’re having free hot dogs over there,” she informed me.

I was sorry that my stop was coming up. “That sounds like a good idea,” I said. “Enjoy your hot dogs.”

“Thanks. Enjoy your day!” she said, and waved gaily as I got off the bus.

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