A man sat next to me on the train this morning. It wasn’t a crowded train for a Monday, yet I could feel him pressing his legs into mine with an intense pressure. I looked up from my book (another Alice Munro short story collection…ugh, so the best ever) and was pleased to see that the thigh pressure was coming from the most beautiful man I’ve seen in a long time. I went back...
“They were all in their thirties. An age at which it is sometimes hard to admit that what you are living is your life.” Accident Alice Munro