a coincidence.

a had no intention of accessory matching with a wall:


anyway. today, there was a subway track fire. after a 15 minute stall, the backup generator flickered itself into functioning, and prompted people to pay attention. some smoke filled the cars and we were asked to move to the opposite end of the train.

a woman in her late 20s started to panic and talk about her asthma and how she has neither her pump nor cell phone reception in the tunnel with her. about five other women had to console her, and remind her that she was a grown-ass adult.

but please, the above is not to be confused for the point of this entry.

a young girl, about seven, walked through cars with her father. she was crying, and her father tried his best not to seem frantic. people panicked, and shouted above her petite frame. she whimpered into the fur line of her hood, and her father doesn't look at me when i ask for her name. i sit beside neticia, and as calmly as i could (despite being awfully scared and frustrated not having any information about the situation), explain that things would be alright, that sometimes, when people throw their garbage away on the track, it catches fire. therefore, we should never ever throw garbage onto the track, or else it creates such a scary situation. that the smoke was from one of those small fires in the tunnel. i tell her that should we see the fire, i was sure that her father would make sure nothing bad happened to her. i pulled the neckline of my shirt over my mouth and told her that if the smokesmell bothers her, she could cover her nose with her shirt or sleeve. i told her that what would happen is that the train conductor will go to the nearest subway platform, and make sure we get on a different train or bus to make sure we got home on time. as she calms down, i notice her nails, painted a pearly pink with white and silver stripes glossed over the enamel. her father doesn't mind a stranger speaking to her, because it is working. i asked why she picked those colors, who did her nails, how often she gets them done. she was excited to tell me about her sweater and how it matches the silver stripe. the train inched forward, and i said, "see?" as i smiled at her. the movement rocked her into reassurance, which was emphasized with a grin of relief. the conductor makes another announcement, and we are asked to move to another car pushed onto the far end of the bway-nassau platform, as we get up from our seatas, i thank neticia for being so very brave, since everyone was so scared, even adults. with that, neticia's father whisks her away, the urgency most likely prompted by his own discomfort in me being a stranger.

by the exit staircase, she looks back and smiles, and i know i will probably never see neticia again.