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She’d dress in sensible, clean, and unremarkable way such that you never even noticed exactly what she was wearing. Her beautiful silver hair, often in a loose ponytail, was remarkable however. So was this glimmer of smile and curiosity in her eyes. I had exchanged silent conversations with her a couple of times. You know, the way New Yorkers do over some event that’s not unlike a small ripple in our daily lives—noticeable and oftentimes amusing but not big enough to make a fuss about it. /2