Quiet Morning

I drop off my laundry and walk along Broadway, all the way to 184th Street and make a right towards the train station.  It’s not the quickest route from the laundromat to the subway, but it’s a bit different than the norm and the weather has finally started to warm up a bit.  Sarah F. walks inside just ahead of me.

One of the three turnstiles is broken and a second one is occupied by a buffoon that can’t swipe his card correctly.  The resulting jam builds up several feet of traffic before I am finally through to the other side.  I see Sarah again at the bottom of the steps, and this time she sees me too.  She waves and says hello.  I can’t actually hear her because of my headphones, but I wave back and smile.  Benny S. is also on the platform, still bearded, and also waves as I pass him.