His hair flops over his glasses as he reads. He's a student, wool jacket over threadbare jeans. The book is on Shinto Meditation and it absorbs him fully. I wonder what he's looking for in those pages: the way to inner peace? A perspective on another way of life? Or perhaps just easily-impressed arts students?
The strains of an accordion greet me as I exit the stairs. The busier is a scruffy middle aged man wearing a dark t-shirt and khakis. The song is familiar, yet not, and then I realize he's playing Oasis. Rock in strange clothes. I drop some change in his hat and move on. The strains of Wonderwall follow me up the stairs.
It's just another Tuesday.