Today on the train a young woman sat down next to me...I was first going over my lines for Measuring Matthew then I was reading Angels in America and so was pretty locked into my own private world. I was putting everything away at Boylston in preparation of getting off at Park Street (and in a minute or two running the gamut of SaveDarfur.org) when I noticed she was writing in a card...tiny, tiny lettering that was just filling the page. She was on the right-hand page, having already filled the left side, and she was three-quarters of the way down.
I was amazed that she could write that small. I was amazed by whomever was the recipient...who was this lucky guy/gal? What was their relationship that she had so much to say?...so emotional? Was she crazy? Crazy in love? Crazy crazy?
When I got off at Park she got up and went to a single seat at the back of the train and resumed her work.
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