Passing Angels

I call them Passing Angels, my bus encounters people. I had planned a different topic for my blob but then malware invaded the Dell in the Shire. Tuesday came and went. There is always a reason for such events. Randy said he thought Earthlink had an "outage" and I needed to scan for malware. Malware was found and the outage seems to have turned to inage. I tend to skip the science and look for Another Reason. I think, in this case, the reason was Todd. I was at the Franklin/Rosemary bus stop when I heard this man ask if the (couldn't hear which) bus had gone by. No answer from the requestee so I piped up and said, "The N is late if that's the one you are catching." He replied, "No, I'm going to Timberlyne to check my mail." That seemed odd. Timberlyne is way out in the country whereas a post office was around the corner. He was a nicely dressed, almost preppy, stocky man with a milk chocolate complexion verging on dark chocolate. He had a soft Southern accent. I then said I liked the Timberlyne route which brought forth one of those, "Since the time I've been here" remarks which prompts a, "Where did you from from?" comment. It turned out he was not from these parts. He was from Philadelphia and had known and studied with some famous artists such as the cartoonist who drew The Family Circus. He said his father was a writer and his mother an artist. Early in life he learned to join words with drawings. He gave me some water color tips as it is my favorite medium. And some Amtrak tips for going to Philadelphia. We talked about the wonderful statue of the woman seated with her suitcase in an old-fashioned summer dress and hat. Suddenly my bus came. The lateness had been just enough. I got up from the bench and he asked earnestly, "What is your name?" I said, "They call me Mimsey." "I'm Todd." "Thanks for the art lesson, Todd." I leave it to you. Do you think this is why I was kept home working on the computer? Is this why my bus was late? Is this one of those angels with a directional sign pointing me towards Central Park with a sketchbook in my hand? You know what I think.

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...may passing angels "speed you with a song, a melody of Heaven"...

Peace Angel: courtesy of Bernadette Deming