If she had spoken her mind more fully Adam might have been surprised how closely their thoughts ran parallel. Now, as with every time they crossed paths, Adam found himself wishing he had taken more time to acquaint himself with her, to deepen the connection that was already there. It would be good to build on the easy friendship they shared, a rapport whose match he had found with no other recent acquaintance. His shifts would even out, he knew, and he resolved to make a more concerted effort when they did. Perhaps in time they would come to understand just how closely they reflected one another, two old souls fashioned in such similar ways.
"Morning yoga," he mused. "That'd be good to get you out and about, I'd imagine. Hopefully you'd only meet the laid-back neighbors there, and not any of the angry letter-writers. And anyway, I hear a little sun salutation is good for the soul."
In truth, to Adam, routine was sounding like a positive change in and of itself. Too long he had been caught up in change, his every waking moment determined by an ever-changing, gradually worsening schedule. Another man might have cursed the tourists or the summer weather that drew them out, rendering his difficult job all the harder thanks to heavy summer partying. But Adam merely took it in stride, suffering without realizing, a hermit by circumstance rather than choice.
"Maybe I should look into something like that," he said. "If you like the class, let me know? Maybe I'll come along some time."