It's the little things
eternally fascinated by happenstance
At the market on Saturday, my first day out after a week of being unwell, my path crossed with a young man carrying a tote bag from perhaps my favorite bookstore in the world. The same bag in the same color that I have myself, and often bring to the market, though I hadn’t that day.
I was using one from another bookstore.
On Sunday, at the Mary Poppins bag of a supermarket near where I live: once again, in front of me, a woman carrying a tote, the same one I’d had at the market day before, and still was carrying. In the same color.
This person seemed a little startled at my enthusiasm when I pointed out our matching bags, but then again she hadn’t just had something like this happen to her two days in a row.
This is not leading up to anything. I am just fascinated by coincidences and what the odds are of running into strangers on two consecutive days who own something I do that is so incredibly specific. In Kathmandu. Especially when these were my first brief forays out into the world after a week at home sick.
On Monday I chose a different bookstore bag for fun and maybe I should have stuck with Europe because the tote spell is broken. No matter. I had a lovely time at a gathering with friends: some are leaving, some I only just met, and some, thankfully, will be here for a while.
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Corrigendum: The Nepali stools in last week’s post are mudha or muda, not mudra. While transliterations differ, there is no “r” in the word. See Marv above.