A Million Stories in the Naked City

Seen at 8:24 this morning: A woman in a nice pink & black pantsuit standing on a bridge overlooking the river that runs through downtown, carefully shredding loose pages and dropping the confetti into the water below.

Conjecture: They were love letters from a mad, passionate affair with her boss — who happens to be another woman. Or they were the credit card bills she’s been running up for months behind her husband’s back. Or they were the pages of her suicide note, and she decided to skip the suicide and drown the note. Or… or… or…

Summation: Thank God for imagination. How else would I get through the day?