These chance encounters

There was an English bloke, maybe late forties. At the bus stop. Charming, and a gentleman. We had a bit of a chit chat, waiting for the bus, and also in the bus. Nothing profound, earth-shattering. I detected a slight burr of a scottish accent, but when I said so, he told me that his scottish friends would be scandalised to hear that.

The value of the moment was the transitoriness of it. Just five minutes in the company of someone you never met before, and would never meet again. After a long slog of work, it was like a cup of hot tea, made with just the right cream and not too weak.

Like the man I meet when I run at night, I actually wanted this to be a one-off encounter, because I think these meetings are getting to be one of the constants in my life. Their value is so great I think because of the purity of them. They have no other motive rather than a pleasant exchange, be it a nod and smile, or a bit of a chat.

I wouldn't want them any other way.

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