True story: many years ago, when I was still living in Boston, I was taking the T to work one morning, and there was a Korean woman, probably in her 50's, sitting in a seat facing me. She opened her purse, and removed a Ziploc bag. The next thing I knew, she had opened the Ziploc bag, and was eating a piece of corn on the cob. Corn on the cob, on a train, for breakfast. I've always wanted to fold that into a story somewhere, but it seems completely contrived. Unless I write a piece that's entirely about this woman, and what I perceive the rest of her life to be like.
Corn on the cob, on the train, for breakfast. Who knew?
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Street vendors sell corn-on-the-cob here in Sofia... you can even choose between roasted, offering the grill marks all over the ear, or boiled. I tend to gravitate toward the roasted, because you never know for certain how often the boilers are swapping out their water. Y'know?
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