The one girl, she had her face buried in her hands. The other girls said come over here, sit here. Leave me alone. They protested once or twice then gave up, unconcerned.

I've been leaning forward on the train, to ease my perpetual, vaguely sour stomach.

There's always an intriguing group of people waiting at the crosswalk on the northeast corner of Canal Street and Hudson in the morning. Fashion models and religious nuts. Pretty young dog walkers. Slavic looking guys. A couple of the Lost, together or apart, seeking Chinatown or the river.