Noble Maloof Update

He's still there, most days, on the bus, sitting, looking on longingly as I walk past him in the aisle to find a seat. Far from him. He hasn't risked another chase-down in the middle of downtown. No jars of jam or messages on slips of wolf-paper. He's just there in his kanga cap with his hairy ears that don't hear so well.

I just haven't had the energy of late to plop down next to him and say, "So, where were you born, Noble?" When that day comes (and I'm really feeling my oats) you'll hear all about it. In the meantime I sit somewhere else and read a book or watch the landscape rush by.

Just like always.