“Loose squares, loose squares!” rang through the aisle.
“CDs, loosies, smell-goods!” yelled another man draped in lime green. He paraded his merchandise left to right for his potential patrons to see. A long rush of wind from his push through the emergency door pressed most people past interest in even seeing what he was selling. Most just looked back at their phones, but a few had to get their fix.
She slipped her bag of O-Ke-Doke popcorn out of her tote and busted it open. The teen’s eyes went wide as she poured the popcorn in his cupped hands. “Why weren’t there more places to get real meals off this damn train?” Felicia thought. She concluded it wouldn’t matter anyway.
New station, same 95th Street. v
