Weather

An East Asian woman at Dearborn, standing by me on the 7. "Next stop is Dearborn, by Goodwill," I announce over the intercom.
"Is the next one Dearborn? By Goodwill?" she asks in accented syllables.
"It is indeed!"
"Okay. Good." 

The redundant question is hardly bothersome, and I can see she feels comfortable. Good. I look at her and she looks at me, and there's a shared desire, as if we'd both love to keep talking, keep connecting, but we don't know what to discuss. That's what the weather's for, isn't it?

I'm about to mention the rain when she says, "what is this rain?" 
"Yes, I don't understand! I thought it was going to be sunny!"
"Me too, the clouds were light, the sky was blue,"

I want to say, "looks can be deceiving," but I can't be sure of her proficiency in English. Will she know what 'deceiving' means? In that moment I decide to go for it. It feels good to be given the benefit of the doubt (a la the woman who trusted me to know the word conviviality). You're acknowledging the possibility.

"Looks can be deceiving!"
She laughs, a rich, comprehending, mellifluous chuckle. "Oooh! So philosophical!"