I saw her again, the piratess of the mta, this time no butterfly bandage crudely covering her missing eye. There it was in its scar tissue glory, shiny and pink, with an almond sized darkness.
This time she had her shoes on and added a black feather boa to the ensemble.
Sometimes riding on the bus can make you sad, sometimes it is an interesting anthropological study, sometimes it can turn you off the steak you just bought at Ralph's.
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