People-watching, on the third of four trains
today: a family join the train, mum, dad, teenage girl, pre-adolescent boy. The
dad’s forearms are covered with tattoos of satanic symbols and images. He wears
a t-shirt depicting a children’s cartoon character above the legend
MOTHERF*CKERS [with asterisk] and complains that his wife has not allowed him
to wear his Charlie Uniform November Tango t-shirt instead.
The son sneezes, three times. Each time, the
father responds, Bless you.
It feels...incongruous.
Is he performing an exorcism of angels? Or is
blessing something that will not let go of us, even if we seek to reject its
baggage?
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