Victory again today on the train, in catching sight of another enthusiast of words on paper. Making my way back home later than usual, the throng was less intense. Even so, I was able to gain a clear view of my fellow reader only because the white-haired gent had positioned himself on the very edge of his seat, hunched over what I finally managed to discover was a very stylish copy of Auntie Mame. With the computer bag employed on his lap as an improvised desk, and the book spread open over it, our understatedly classy man seemed thoroughly capable of blocking out the competitive texting pressing in around him.
The scene was unsentimentally touching– a feeling somehow crowned by the sight of the neon green bookmark sticking out from in between a section of pages yet to be read.