A man on the bus today shared with me that his late wife had played the violin. "Where do you play?" he said with a smile. "Oh around, here and there." "My late wife played, had her masters." He had gotten up for his stop, so the doors opened and with a good-bye acknowledgment, stepped off.
People touch me sometimes. What made him need to tell me this? I have some inking, can't really know, but can imagine. And that touches me, makes me grateful for his sharing.
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