Across the aisle from me sits a man in scuffed white Skechers and a gray sport coat. His silver hoop earring reflects the passing landscape. He sits with two books open in his lap and a pen between his teeth, reading a few pages in each book and then switching back to the other, all the while taking notes in the margins.
His knees brush up against his wine-colored leather tote with the matching zippers. Once in a while, as he reads, he breaks into a smile and strokes his chin. He fidgets, changes his position, moves his legs, repositions his feet, but does not put his books down.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment