We were on the B-Line this morning. When the sunlight flashed through the windows and hit your eyes, they shone green and blue. Someone called you. You took out your cell, answered with a voice-cracky "Hello?" (hastily clearing your throat afterwards). I tried not to look at you, but I'm grateful for the I thrilling two seconds of eye contact we made. I was wearing sports leggings, runners, and a backpack. I hurried off at the Cambie stop, and I felt you behind me for a brief bit. Why didn't I say hi? I guess I'll try to ride the 99 Bae-Line on Friday mornings in hopes of running into you again.