I looked at her and thought, “My mother is at least two inches taller than that woman,” then turned and kept searching for her face in the crowd. Rosie who lives in Massachusetts suddenly appeared at a reading I was giving in California, and I thought, “Why is that girl staring at me like that?” A man I had lived with once in Brooklyn sat across from me in a coffee shop in LA, and all I could think was, “He’s strangely attractive.” A green-eyed woman in a silk scarf approached me at the Port Authority Bus Terminal and said my name, smiling. On three separate occasions, I stood within feet of people I knew intimately-one a best friend since adolescence, one a former lover, and one a member of my family-and I did not recognize them.
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