Being late, I haven't checked the weather, and once outside its clear I'm dressed for a cooler climate. Adding further insult are the shoes I'm wearing, which I dug up last night during an end-of-decade closet cleanup. The pair fits, technically, but with orthotics inside they still need a bit of stretching and I'm feeling the pain.
On the way to drop off my laundry and right outside the local synagogue, I bump into Avi T. and he waves. I can't wave back, on account of all the clothes I'm carrying, but I smile and he gets it. Returning from the laundromat I see Simone G. at the corner of 187th and Broadway. We say hello.
Rabbi M. is exiting the synagogue along with a few others but he doesn't see. Neither does Adam F. who is up ahead at the corner of 186th and Bennett. On Overlook, I see Estie H. as she enters the station.
On the train, I sit in the back corner to read my magazine. Next two me, two Spanish speaking middle aged women are chatting loudly. Another woman, a few seats away, is sitting with her back upright, in perfect posture, reading AM New York. Her hair, a short bob cut, is styled with a large headband across the top; a coarse overcoat reaches almost to the knees of her faded jeans. Below, she has red sneakers with a black pattern and her left ring finger sports a shiny wedding band. At 59th, she is gone. I get off too, a sigh of grief when I look at my watch and decide there is no time to stop for caffeine.
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