I’ve been riding my bike a lot lately. Two summers ago I sprained my ankle while dismounting (I am very graceful) and that was enough to keep me off for a while. But with gas prices the way they are now, I’ve been turning to my trusty orange bike as an effective and inexpensive mode of transport. I’m currently house and dogsitting for a friend who lives about eight blocks away, and so the bike has been getting me there and back quickly and easily, a couple of times a day.

Earlier tonight, I was riding home and as I turned a corner, I saw a familiar figure on a bike, riding in my direction. I momentarily considered continuing on home and pretending that I hadn’t seen him, but he shouted hello and I couldn’t keep going once I had been spotted. It was Ted, my long-ago ex-boyfriend.

We stood, at the mouth of Ludlow Street, in front of the Salvation Army donation bins and spent a couple of minutes catching up. It was nice to see him, like running into a distant relative, someone to whom you are tenuously connected, but would never see by virtue of your own volition.

I’ve been running into people a lot lately, which has been a very comforting thing. My life has felt very much out of my control lately, and I’ve been contemplating the notion that perhaps it’s all a sign that I’m wildly off course. But then I stumble across yet another person who is known to me and I take it as a signal that in fact, I am right where I need to be.