A Pink Bike Kinda Day

On the bus, heading to work.

A typically gray Michigan mid-winter dawn.

Chained to a "No Parking" sign pole, a pink bike.

Not an ordinary, run of the mill, "...oh, there's a bike...and it's pink," but a "TA-DAHHH!  PINK!!" kinda bike.

Further along, the Fox Theatre sign, in intermission between color dances.

Dark against the rising sun.

The two Fs facing each other, forming an "A," my first initial.

Underneath, 2 Os and 2 Xs.

Double Hugs and Kisses.

At my transfer point, I'm trying to hurry without tripping any stealth ice traps.

The bus driver waits for me.

I get off and visit the gas station to buy lunch stuff.

A young fellow with sagging pants and hair braided back holds the door open for me.

When I thank him, he almost smiles.

On my desk, my coworker has left me a banana, my favorite fruit.

All this and it's not even 9 o'clock.