...her hair was long and lustrous black; and her eyes were great big blue things with timidities inside. I wished I was on her bus. A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too-big world." Jack Kerouac - On the Road, Ch. 12

She stood there for a blink. Staring at me as if no one had ever bent down and picked something up for her before. Her hand was still outstretched, still holding the book. It could have been in passing...I couldn't feel the ground.

She said I had nice hands. I never saw her again. I'll never forget her voice.

I wished I was on her bus...instead I was lost in the too-big world of Manhattan, going the opposite direction.