Sunday, May 17, 2015


We tumble into the bus, soaking wet from the rainstorm, and find ourselves sitting across the aisle from the guy that begs for change outside of the market down the street. The deep grooved wrinkles on his face rearrange themselves into a friendly smile as we exchange pleasantries.

At our stop, Katie races down the street to our door, her flip-flops flapping on the wet sidewalk, and I pace after, unwilling to be hurried, even by the rain.

The beggar from the bus shoots us a wave as I unlock the front door, and I return the wave as Katie and I head inside.

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