I suppose at some point, I will have to move away from the previous entry, this one point along the timeline of my life, though Vince's ended, prematurely, a while ago.

Life goes on, and though I will never forget, I will go on, as time is wont to do. I have turned 20, a mild autumn has begun melting into an even milder winter, and I do not think it will snow this year.

A short entry, then, as I move a hesitant half-step away from that day, that moment, that email.

I.
I am on a late tube from Pimlico, archery bag slung across my back, rocking slightly with the shudders of the train. A man in a black jacket kisses his girlfriend goodbye. She finds a seat, pulls her comfortable looking hood up over her head, settles in for the rest of the journey. A lanky man with a mop of curly, wind-tossed hair comes in, bag of groceries in hand.

He strikes up a conversation with a burly gruff man plugged into his mp3 player, and makes a passing comment about how warm and cosy the lady's long coat looks. She smiles, reaches into her handbag and passes him an equally comfortable looking grey beanie hat. They laugh as he tries the beanie on with her encouragement, looking a little sheepish.

The train stops at her station. She gets off, still smiling.

I stare at the curly-haired man's newly-acquired beanie, and wonder about hat fairies.

II.
I am standing at a cafe, waiting for a friend.
Man in suit, carrying briefcase: Do you speak English?
Me (slightly offended/exasperated): Yes.
Man: Sorry, I don't know, do I?
Me: Fair enough.
Man: Sorry, I'm short of seventy pence change to make up my fare to the Strand. There are all these people in suits standing around, but for some reason I approached you...that's life I guess.
I rummage in coin pouch for coins.
Man: Where are you from? Japan?
I shake my head.
Man: Korea? China?
I continue shaking my head.
Me: Guess again! Further south.
Man: Philippines? I don't know any other countries that far down south.
Me: Singapore. South of Malaysia, though my ancestors are from China, if that helps any.
I locate the correct change. Hand him the coins.
Man: Thnk you. Bless you, sister. Have a good day!

III.
I am still standing at a cafe, waiting for a friend.

HK Girl: Excuse me, could you help us take a photo?
HK Girl and her friend stand together. As I count to three, a motorbike-courier sidles into the photo. He smiles at me, I grin back.

It suddenly feels as if we share a delightful secret.

I take the photo.

The motorbike-courier walks off on his errand, leaving as quietly as he came, his eyes full of mirth.

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