We took the metro to the museum, and on the way we met a man who gave us directions. We walked around, looking at landscapes and sculptures. We exited after a little while and visited a food-truck and then lay on the grass. Afterwards we walked to the botanical gardens and I gave him a piece of my orange. On the way, I asked him if we would have cute children. He said yes. I said yes, because his good nose could make up for my bad one. He said we could ask God, but God would probably say that all children are beautiful, so we’d have to convince him of what we really mean. We walked around the botanical gardens and talked politics. We then wandered around, asking policemen how to get to Union Station. At the door, I gave a man five dollars. He told us to have a good day. Greg held my bag. We looked up and down for a place to have tea. Then we both went to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, I mistakenly congratulated a lady on becoming a grandmother. She let me go in front of her in the line. We then went to Au Bon Pain for tea and met this lovely lady who was a cashier. She told us about her odd jobs. She started at 17, she was funny and she told us stories. Greg asked me if I wanted a pastry. I said no. He laughed at her jokes and we talked with her a while before she rang us up. She said, “if my sister who is bipolar, dyslexic, and schizophrenic can take all APs and get A’s and B’s, you can do anything.” When we checked out I said “God bless you.” Greg offered to pay, but I did instead. Then we left to the metro. I slept on Greg on the train. He held me like I were made of eggshells and caressed me the whole way back. His fingers curled into mine. I left makeup on his shirt. “It’s fine,” he said.
I live for days like this.