Walking down the street, I look at the people around me. They don’t look the same as they did twenty years ago. They feel less familiar. More serious. More angry. It’s as if they’re sleeping less, as if their minds can’t find any quiet. Those who talk, talk louder. Some stare at endless videos on their phones, right there in public, ignoring everyone nearby. A few finish a smoke or a snack and just throw it on the ground.

And yet—sometimes, one out of many offers kindness. A smile.
I hope I meet them today. I hope they’ll still be here tomorrow.