I saw her standing across the street, smoking. I wish she didn’t smoke. She usually arrives at 6pm for the eastbound bus. I never see her in the morning. I am here early, setting up my newsstand. I think she works at one of those offices in the business district. Maybe she car pools, maybe her husband drops her off in the morning. Maybe she takes another bus in the morning. I guess I don’t have the guts to follow her. Well, I have to be in the newsstand pretty much all the time.

I wish the bus was late. I wish she didn’t smoke. But one day she came early. I noticed no cigarettes. She looked at her watch, started crossing the street. I had only one customer to deal with then, so I could see that she was heading for the newsstand, my newsstand. What could she possibly want from my newsstand?

She came up to me. That butterfly stomach again. I tried to smile. She smiled back. “Can I get a pack of Marlboro lights?”