New York is Healing

I got on the A train the other morning. Being recently vaccinated, I found myself much more observant of my surroundings outside of the fight or flight, mask or no mask binary.

I sat across from a woman who was going off about her ex-boyfriend. I found myself nodding while intently eavesdropping.

“Yes, that man is trash; glad you left him, sis,” I silently affirmed to myself. It was also a blessing she had a friend who could hold space for what was on her spirit at 9:30am.

As we began to travel between stops, I noticed that she was not in fact talking to a friend on her AirPods, but having a conference with herself. Our eyes locked as soon as we reached 168th, and I quickly shuffled to the next car.

As I sat down, I noticed an abandoned box of ramen noodles on one of the subway seats. Ah, this is the city I remember. New York is healing.

The end.