A blind woman and her guide dog got on the bus this morning. Other people made room for her and the pup after the bus driver announced which bus she was about to get on, and where it was going. I found myself watching her. The way her eyes moved, how she moved in space. I'm not sure if that's because I was just interested, or because she couldn't see me looking.

She retrieved some headphones from her bag, and I guess she turned on some tunes. Then she pulled out a slice of banana bread and unwrapped it. It struck me that she took a bite from the slice, rather than the far more common method of breaking off a little and nibbling on it, as most women seem to do when they're eating. I noticed her fingers moving around the edge of the slice, calculating the next approach.

The bus stopped and we all waited patiently while a man was picking things up off the ground. All his bits of paper had fluttered to the ground just moments before the bus arrived. He got on, and said "Thank you," very loudly. There was a seat up the front (reserved for the elderly and disabled) and a seat next to me. He plonked down next to me and said nothing.

A Pretty Girl got on at Kits. She made her way up the aisle and stopped at my row. The man stuck his hand out to her, saying "Hi, i'm Jerome."
"My name's Jerome."
"Jerome. Hi."
"I'm going to Robson Street for a coffee. Where are you going?"
"I might go to the beach after that. I don't have a job right now."
"Are you looking?"

When I excused myself from the window seat past Jerome, I whispered "thank you," and he returned "You're welcome!"