Routine
Every Monday morning on the way to see my shrink I walk along the same street; every week, unfailingly, I meet an old lady on her old bike, going in the opposite direction. She is very punctual. I can usually tell if I'm on time or not from the point our paths cross. If we cross after the entrance to the park, I can slow down; if it's earlier than the pilar box, then I better hurry up a bit. There's never anyone else around, or at least not walking, not riding a bike.
We've made eye contact a few times. Today I smiled at her, but she didn't smile back. I'll keep working on it. However, my optimism is slightly tinged with concern : next week I don't have my usual appointment; she might lapse and I'll have to start all over again.