secret (sometimes backward) messages

Sometimes when I walk around the city, I live in my thoughts. I let myself be consumed by them. On auto-pilot, I cross streets and ride subways and walk past my fellow humans without noticing much of anything.

But sometimes, I happily burst my thought bubble, and I look out and up and all around me. And, if I’m lucky, I see a backward greeting from a window of a stranger’s apartment.

Even the little things make the thought bubble worth bursting.

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