Bloor Line, content to stand in the doorway.

Caucasian woman, 70s, with glasses, wearing black "parachute" pants, black jacket with faux fur collar, and black and white bandana tied around her silver-white hair.

Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage by Alice Munro (McClelland & Stewart)

Halfway:

She paid for the passenger ticket now, from a roll of bills in a cloth bag in her purse. Like an old lady. She counted her change, too. But not the way an old lady would count it--she held it in her hand and flicked her eyes over it, but you could tell she didn't miss a penny. Then she turned away rudely, without a good-bye.

She fans the book in one hand, the other reaching into her pocket. She retrieves a tissue and dabs her nose, mouth open, shallow breaths, no scent, no taste. She sniffs and adjusts her weight, assuming the stance of a teenaged girl, face falling soft, skin creased into crepe paper folds.