After he got off
I rode the Atlanta Streetcar (which I call Streety) at rush hour one morning this week. There were more people on it than last time (maybe ten, instead of just me). They kind of sat together, even though they were strangers. They got to talking. There was laughter. It was nice. But then it was just me and this man. After he got off, I was alone again. With my thoughts. With my camera. I then rode the route on my bike, as usual. You can see the additions to my three-year photo essay (we’re in year 2 now) here.