In the bustle of city life constantly in close proximity to at least 20 people at at any given moment I sometimes suddenly get sensitive to the human condition. In moments of medicated thinking I look at people around me on trains, in lines, in public places and I start first sentences of stories. That old man fought in the Korean war. This woman fled Mexican slums with her blind son. That man is a convicted arsonist on probation. This woman's mother was Miss America 1980. Some are less elaborate. More about what she ate for breakfast or if he flosses. Usually a melodramatic story involving all of us ensues. The perfect song will come from my headphones and it gets even more intense because now there is a soundtrack. Then I spill coffee on myself and it's gone.
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