Some Kind and Human Place

Six in the morning and the guy came out of nowhere.

I’d thought I was alone in the subway station. Or rather, at the entrance to the subway station.

Which is where I was stuck, twisting and shoving, jamming and willing my suitcase through the turnstiles. But unless the laws of physics took a turn for the magical, it didn’t seem possible.

So, out of nowhere, the guy came. He had a loose white shirt with a neckline stretched past his collarbone and the tired hunch of someone coming off the nightshift with a long ride home.

He swiped through the turnstile next to me, took a step forward, then turned back, and with one large hand slid my suitcase through the turnstiles’ clutch.

Wow, thanks, I said to him. Yup, he said to me. Smiled a little. And then the guy from out of nowhere left.

But he didn’t come from out of nowhere. He came from some place. Some place kind and human. A place that in the rush of spirit-crushing headlines and cruelties near and far, we can discount, dismiss, even forget.

And yet still, a place that is powerful enough to change the laws of physics.

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