Bus Report #687
I was half a block away from the donut shop and as I always do, I slowed down and tried to peer in through the windows, just in case.
In case the alien donut man was there.
For the first time in a long time, almost two months, I think, he was there.
Sitting at his usual table, his coffee, his donut, his parka, his orthopedic shoes.
He chewed a mouthful of donut but nodded at me slowly, anyway.
I nodded back.