I saw her. My eye catching a glimpse of her perfectly round shiny dome.
She was bald and bold. With that step..that leap of faith, I was inspired. I wanted to know her backstory. I wanted to look in her eyes and know her history. Why was her hair shorn? I wanted to applaud her, hug her,befriend her. Instead, I let her walk off the train. Not making eye contact. Because I didn't want to make her feel as if another person were gawking at her and because
I'm a New Yorker and that's just what we do.