Yesterday on the subway, I saw it a little old lady – who may or may not have always been a lady – get on and take a seat near me. She smiled at me as she settled in, and I smiled back, then looked away, as you do.
Also as you do, however, I glanced at her a few more times when she wasn’t looking, just to get a better read on her. She was distracted by popping open a fresh jar of cashews.
She was dressed in her Sunday best (even though it was Tuesday), including a sweet hat to shield her head from the sun. Her fingernails were painted with an intricate black and white pattern, while her toenails were more of a bright pink, to closely match the stripes on her her skirt.
The words “Cancer Sucks” were tattooed one the outside of her left wrist.
I decided I might want to be when I grow up.
Maybe without so much pink, though.
Inventory Of Everything 