Taken with permission. I was fascinated by the way the comb of hair fell forward when he leaned over to read whatever had captured his attention on his cell phone.
I get on an elevator on the 12th floor. A couple of floors lower four people with small suitcases on rollers get on, three women, one man. They are talking and laughing.
“I’ve had that argument with my husband already,” one woman says. “I don’t want to approach it that way again.”
They all continue to laugh and chatter. The elevator stops again and another woman with a small suitcase gets on. They pick up the same conversation, laughing some more. They seem to know the new woman. I wonder what they do. They do not wear anything that would identify that, such as an airline insignia. And they are well dressed in different colours.
I don’t know why I say what I am thinking out loud. It is usually not greeted that well to jump into a group conversation, but they all chuckle.
“I will have to make up some story about what you are talking about,” I say.
“Presto card,”. One of them says.
Ohmygoodness, How boring is that. And all that laughter, too. I ought not to have asked. My fabricated story would have been a lot more interesting.