Too many people, not enough space. Every commuter’s frustration.
For Greg, his irritation was far more specific. It was his newspaper. He could never completely open it up on the train or the subway. It was always bunched or crunched or crinkled.
But those days were long gone.
Now every morning, Greg sat in a cozy nook with a hot cup of coffee and his morning paper unfurled on his kitchen table.
Today, he perused the weather pages in detail. An amusing choice, but it didn’t really matter.
What mattered was his love of pouring over a spread out newspaper.
The Weekday One Hundred 