She sits for hours, we’ve all seen her. She sometimes hunts through her bag pulling out an empty hand. Sometimes she does that more than twice. She sometimes looks up from her book. Actually, she does that quite often. Sometimes I think she’s not actually reading. She smiles upon eye contact with a stranger who looks away from her friendly, maybe even eager, face. She coughs a lot. As if she were clearing her throat. You know who I’m talking about. I think she’s dreaming.
