3 Encounters

#1 Homer sits down next to me on a couch. There are many other couches to choose from. He asks me questions about the book in my hands, the beliefs in my head. Are you a skeptic, he asks. You're as pretty as Christine, one of our important speakers, he says. I smile with the compliment's energy behind it. Don't get too excited, he says.
#2 Believer drives the taxi taking us home. His was chosen for us. While driving, he shares his story of long journeys to and from places near and far. He speaks English and French. I speak French (sort of) too, I say. I visited west Africa (one country only and not the one where he was born), I say. Excited, he asks me to marry him.
#3 Ed looks at a vintage photo of an old hotel. I approach and point. That's me there, I say. Kidding, of course because I'm too young to be in the picture. He is not. He worked there then. Decades ago this photo captured him (maybe, it's hard to see faces) carrying food and drink on a tray to Ben (or friends of Ben at the sin city establishment named for a pink bird). Don't look at the tray they told him. Excited, he says he didn't. Good man Ed.