Donut worry. Be happy.

And I was happy with the six delicious, deep-fried rings in my Dunkin' Donuts tote bag. And a lahge regulah to go with the carbs.

Our happy hour is every hour, our coffee is Dunkin',  I sang inwardly to myself.

Today, Rena would be eagerly waiting for me and my stack of annular pastries. She'd better leave some for our author guest, though.

The train doors opened at South Station. A mother with two young boys boarded, all three dragging their feet. The group split up, approaching passengers and begging for pocket change.

A starving lioness and her two hungry cubs.

Most of the passengers averted their eyes from the silent eye-pleas and extended sooty palms. I guessed it was easier to pretend the trio wasn't even there.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from the youngest, coal-eyed boy. He wore a green coat: tattered, battered, and threadbare; frayed at the cuffs, shabby, and patched. A couple of sizes too big, it looked like an older brother's hand-me-down.

Sensing an opportunity for connection, the mini cub approached and bathed me in a shy smile, stretching out his hand. "Please, lady," was all he said.

I paused for a split second.

Jayden strongly disapproved of me giving money or food to beggars.

"Think about it, Iris." I could hear his voice in my head. "Giving money to beggars will never teach them to be self-sufficient. It will encourage them to stay on the streets and beg all their life. Begging has become a pity market. Giving money to someone who has no contribution towards the society is stupid."

The donuts rattled in the box inside my bag, whispering among themselves and outvoting Jayden-thoughts. I opened it without thinking, and my gaze fell on Mr. Happy.

Spread happiness was my life motto.

I might have been on and off working on my new illustration project about fairies, but I also loved pretending I was one.

A fairy to bring a little bit of magic to this world!

"Here you go, sweetie. You need this smile more than I do." I pushed Mr. Happy onto the cub's sooty palm.

That was what life was all about. Leaving your comfort zone of "me-ness" and connecting to the non-comfort zone of the "other-ness."

The lioness joined her cub. She nodded at me with a small smile of gratitude and pulled the kid away.

I had five donuts left to share with Rena and Mr. Famous.

Donuts were our morning ritual. Something Jay-Jay knew nothing about.

He might not approve of it. But neither did I approve of his stalling whenever I asked about the publication of my fairy illustrations. Last time we had talked about them, he had complained about their title.

"Fairy Tails?" Jayden had said, laughing. "Is that supposed to be a pun? Iris, you can't make a joke of everything."

Was I making a joke out of everything?

As I pondered this, the train followed its daily course. Subway stations came and went in a blur. People squatted the seat across from me and left again.

I winced when we left the tunnels and emerged into the light of the day, the bright sun bothering my eyes.

A "Charles/MGH" passed the window as the train slowed down.

My tummy rumbled demandingly, and I took a sip of scorching hot coffee, reaching absentmindedly into the tote bag.

Sugar Raised donut came out to greet me.

Yes, yes, it was wrong to eat the donut, but I was starving! And there would still be four left after I was done with this one.

I tore into my sugar-coated victim eagerly, trying not to spill my Dark Side caffeine goddess.

True to its name, Sugar Raised donut raised a puff of powdered sugar all over my face. As I inspected my reflection in the window to check out the damage it had done, I saw him.

I had just jokingly told my Jealous Jay-Jay some days ago that I had a train affair, just to tease him. I had quite enjoyed his reaction — a tiny bout of curiosity and territoriality.

Mr. Ruffles was in the exact same spot where he had been sitting two weeks ago!

Two Men in Black crowded his compartment. Were they trying to recruit him to be their agent?

I had to admit, the man looked much better this time round. His gaunt expression was gone, replaced by a look of curiosity as he held my gaze.

Nearly suffocating as I swallowed the humongous bite rolling around my mouth, I realized I was staring, my donut paused in mid-air.

A grin taunted the edge of his lips.

Was he mocking me?

I held my ground and stared back. I was determined to make him feel even more uncomfortable than I was.

I am a Donut Monster! Fear me! For you are my next meal! I licked my lips several times to show I'd still be hungry even when I finished with him.

Our eyefight at the Charles/MGH Corral intensified as he bit his bottom lip to contain a smirk.

He bent down and reached for something.

I took a long, measured sip of Dunkin Donut coffee precisely at the moment when he pulled it out.

The. Carrot.

He gave the phallic-shaped veggie a slight, mischievous wave.

The wave said: "My carrot, your donut, your place tonight?"

Or was I misreading him?

I took another huge gulp of coffee as I waited for him to return the orange member of the vegetable family into its sheath, but he did quite the opposite!

Mr. Ruffles munched on the carrot like a little bunny!

What did that mean?

Was he introducing me to the benefits of healthy food?

The Men in Black next to him had stopped talking altogether, their mouths agape.

There was something SO surreal about that scene that I just couldn't control myself, and I burst out laughing, managing to spray coffee over the passenger in the next seat.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I yelped, instinctively offering a Dunkin Donut napkin to the poor man. Everyone was staring at me.

The train lunged forward, and I took one last look at Mr. Ruffles.

Eyes closed, he laughed.

I wondered about their color.

Were they marshmallow blue, crocodile green, or hickory brown?

Maybe they changed color every month, like my hair.

I shook my head, focusing my undivided attention on the poor coffee-sprayed passenger.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry!" I stammered, using my hand to shield my eyes from the halo that the lamps had formed around his wavy, shoulder-long chestnut-brown hair.

He wore a stylish earring with a weird steely dove dangling from it.

He had a thickish beard and light blue, clear irises that emanated calm.

Jesus.

Literally.

"That is quite alright. I am certain you didn't do it on purpose. There is no need whatsoever to apologize. Rejoice and be glad since you have done me no harm. It is, after all, just a shirt. An easily replaced, materialistic trifle of this world." His soft, strangely outdated words calmed me as he gently placed his hand upon mine. "It could have happened to anyone. After all, the man you are smitten with was enough of a distraction for such an accident to transpire."

"What? No. I wasn't... Well that-that-that ... that's just completely off the point," I stuttered, not knowing where to look.

Maybe Mr. Ruffles did distract me just a smidgen. But that sure as heck didn't mean...

Hmph!

The man smiled kindly. "This is my station," he added, getting up as the speakers announced the next stop. He turned to me before the doors opened, the lamplight still encircling his head. "This is my message. Heed it well. 'Do not be afraid to follow your heart.'"

With these strange words, he left.

What just happened? Who, in his right mind, was talking like this?

Only madmen. Or saints.