NYC Episode 2
The subway tracks vibrate with a rumbling snore, like a slumbering and intoxicated uncle in the room over. The sound resonates along the sidewalk and obscures every voice, the men selling water bottles and plastic hair clips lip-sync until the train leaves. A cacophony follows. Jumbled music from cracked car windows, merchant’s calls, an occasional siren punctures the air with a sharp needle.
Some divine hand threw this neighborhood down. The colors and faces that swarm this street are disjointed but inexplicably connected, as if one piece would not exist without the other.
Under the stairs to the subway a woman crouches, head slumped, neck fragile, peaks of spine underneath pale skin. She sits on the cement for hours, her belongings scattered around her like a nest in the muggy heat. The cup clutched in her hands is empty save for a few coins. Around the corner, families converge around a busted fire hydrant - children shrieking and laughing. The sun bounces off their glowing faces as they run, water sheds from their shoulders and drenched hair.
Maybe someday that woman will laugh like those children do. For now, the sun that embraces the children beats down heavily on her shoulders.