What do you really want to create with this life? is what the wall in the subway says to me today. I am going to fall in love with the author if they don't stop it, don't stop puncturing my day perfectly, making me reel backwards, snap my head around, stop for a moment, blinking, thinking. Someone I don't know, can't imagine, is throwing themselves against a wall to see if they stick and now I am looking through the sun beaming through my window, prisming through my eyelashes, at a spot where feathers are stuck to the glass from a sparrow earlier today careening, careless, but uninjured.