flâneur

salad days - by jessica dai - letters to my friends :~)

letterstomyfriends.substack.com · 2,062 words · saved by 7 readers

(so how's grad school??)

In the mornings, I pass a diner/cafe/deli on my way up to the office. There’s a guy who I’m guessing opens, or maybe owns the place, because he seems to be there almost every morning — smoking a cigarette, still in his apron, or wiping down the counter inside. I don’t know his name, and we’ve never spoken, but at a certain point in the semester, we began to recognize each other and wave, and though I didn’t see him every time, I began to look for him every morning. (I thought about him after we went on strike and I stopped going to the office, whether he ever wondered where I was.)…

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