This past week has been a rush, with little time for organized thinking, let alone putting those thoughts together in written form. Nevertheless, while waiting for my noodles at the shop below Handshake 302, I watched the interactions of the proprietor and a local beggar. He sat at the table, silently, staring out at the road. She cleared tables, made noodles, and then graciously served him a bowl. He didn’t acknowledge her and ate. She returned to her work.
