2 transitions

today, croftie and i had our usual noontime heart-to-heart walk and talk, traversing the bp bridge as we mulled the up-in-the-airness of our lives at this point. then, in the middle of state street- five minutes to one and half a block from the drum corps whom croftie passionately loathes because they once serenaded her on an empty bus- she turned to me and asked, oline, do you like turnips? at last, a question with an answer. and no, i do not.