I'm riding on lightrail tonight, sketching as usual. There is this younger guy sitting across from me, probably 20ish, who's writing. I draw him but then don't pay any attention to him until it's my stop. He rises too, exits then right before I exit he turns and hands me this folded piece of paper. At first I think, "oh great, what is this?" But I open it and begin to read. Before he gets too far I call him back and reach in my bag and give him the sketches I was doing on the train. I've never been the subject of a rap, at least not to my knowledge. Giving him my page of sketches felt like the right thing to do and I was left with a little brighter hope for the human race. One day I'll have to find this kid though and get the T-rex I drew on the other side back.