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  • There is good luck and bad.
    There is the best of bad luck when something much worse could have happened but didn't.
    Luck wears disguises and sets small dramas into motion.

    I was lucky to get a seat on the crowded train.
    It was the early afternoon rush, the one where the kids are out from school and the early shift workers are going home. I was going back to the workshop to wrap up the day.
    A group of young boys got on the train about six of them, around nine years old, ten maybe. Not teens, still boys. They clustered into a noisy group in front of me like a flock of jays, excited, all talking at once.

    The car was crowded with the usual mix of nationalities New York serves up everyday.

    A Hasidic man stood near me in his black and white garb resembling the Amish.
    Then it started, the teasing. For a moment I thought they were talking about eachother but, following their words, it was aimed at the Hasid.

    I looked around and saw no recognition from my fellow passengers. They were blank, remote, like an animal gets when it knows you see it.

    Time stops when you focus on it, try waiting for a one minute egg, You'll see.

    The train had gone express, making a long moment longer as stations raced past.

    "You have to stop," a voice said. My voice, out loud, to the kids.
    They turn to me, as a group, all eyes.
    "You have to stop," repetition will buy me some time.
    "Aww," their chorus swells.

    Why was I standing up?
    But at 5'4" I am as tall as a young boy.

    "You know how you would feel," I was on solid ground here, "You know how it would be if someone was saying this to you. You know what they would call you."
    "Aww," again from the group.
    "Man, she gonna kick your ass," one boy said to another, "You better stop."

    And they turned back into boys, laughing and jostling eachother.
    The train pulled into 59th street. The boys got off, it was their stop.

    No one else had moved, or so I thought, all eyes were averted. I was invisible. The Hasid stared ahead, clutching the pole.
    The train continued on.
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