My bus driver this morning was a woman with a long maneof cury hair highlighted in orange. Seems a sterotype, but she was much nicer than the usual driver, saying goodbye to the school girls who got off, giving an time estimate for when she'd reach a stop, and saying, "Running late too." The bus was ten minutes late
The beautiful intricacy of the multi-directional braids criscrossing the head of the woman in front of me. The contrast between their tight dicipline, and the wavy mane of the woman sitting across her.
The battered fallen leaves by the edge of the curb. Once you you see them, they are everywhere, beneath all the be growth in the planters.
The perfect dome of Y.'s head tucks pagainst the edge of my jaw. From the corner of my eye, I see the transculucent skin where the back of her ear meets her skull.
As she falls asleep, she gets warmer and denser against me.
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