When the car stopped and opened at 59th Street, Mary stood and stepped out for a milli-second in an attempt to absorb the heat that tends to linger on the subway platform. The conductor announced, "Please stand clear of the closing doors." Mary quickly shuffled back into the car and to her seat.
The seat wasn't as cold as she remembered. To her right, where an elderly woman was once seated, sat a young man. His dark brown skin was smoldering from the 90 degree air on the platform. From the corner of her eye, Mary slowly inspected the warmth that was emanating from her right.
She noted the tight curl of his hair, the droplets of sweat that had collected above his top lip, the tattoo of a large tree that covered his entire right shoulder, the length of his legs, the blue and white sneakers on his feet...
Mary gasped and giggled to herself. He was gorgeous! And, with him sitting next to her, her goose pimples disappeared. Surely this was a sign.
They rode three more stops as she contemplated what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. "Canal Street. Change here for the C and E trains." The young man stood up quickly and exited the car with urgency.
The doors closed and (whew!) the fourth car was freezing...
