"yesterday on the train ride home from work, I saw an old woman whose 'race' I couldn't quite decipher find a seat accross from me at a subway stop that shall remain un-named. lol... Her face was folded and patterned in wrinkles that held a million words... she had in her hands, a few bags, some plastic some cloth. Either way I couldn't quite make-out the contents that filled them.
She glanced around for what seemed like a second before she eagerly reached out in one of the bags a book that read something along the lines of "The book of Catholic jokes"... She opened the book and I could see her eyes quickly skim through the first couple of pages and she turned one page after the other (probably skimming the prefaces and intros)... and I saw the faint prelude of what seemed like a half-cracked smirk when she landed on the first page where the book began. ... It was cool to watch that moment.
.... of course she didn't know I was staring at her.. but I was. lol... I saw her eyes dance accross what I assumed to be words, phrases and ideas and then I saw her smile. It seemed like every joke she read was funnier to her than the next one. Almost like she could relate or was hugging the memory of her youth, the memory of something past and the possible irony that may have found itself hidden in between the sentences she found.
... her smile would get bigger as she read on. At one point I noticed that she must've ran into a joke that was super funny because she was smiling really widely then looked up to see if anyone was looking at her ...lol. (it was adorable).. we exchanged glances, as her eyes skimmed around her surroundings then she returned to her book.
It was the most heartwarming sight I'd ever seen on the TTC in a while. ... oooooorrr Maybe I was reading too much into it.... LOL."