My appetite has flipped. I had two dinners, and I’m still hungry. There’s still breakfast I suppose.

As I approached the bridge in the rain, a blank man in a purple suit walked in my direction on the sidewalk as the bike lane merged. He was an older man, short curly hair, mostly gray. He stared me down, giving me the finger the entire way, quite sternly. I wondered for a while what part of me that was directed at. It doesn’t really matter.

As I washed my spoon that I keep in my messenger bag, I chuckled at the course of events that brought me here. Considering that most people convince themselves they are good in some fashion or another, and I’m stuck looking for validation from ghosts, it’s a bit ironic.