It's raining but I am too lazy to carry an umbrella, and from the looks of it I can manage without. I see Aliza G. just outside my building. She is spending a few weeks out of town, at her parents, but came in for one night, to attend an interview.
On 186th I see Lisa K. and she waves from across the street. There is a woman in sporty clothes on the porch of 45 Overlook, presumably stretching before a run, but she actually seems to be engaged a full Pilates session. I keep walking and see the Station Homeless Guy in front of the entrance to the A. He asks for charity, and I wonder where his girlfriend is. Inside the station, I also begin to wonder if he is responsible for the putrid smell of urine that permeates the tunnel.
I go through the turnstiles and down to the platform, where Alisha K. is thoroughly engaged, like other Orthodox subway-riding women, in her morning payers. I walk down to my spot, praying the rain will have stopped by the time I get out.
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