Monday

Kat, James and I were chatting about the girl that died, after jumping into the subway tracks to retrieve her killer cell phone.
I was saying how it makes sense that we should plan out what would happen if we one day find our own selves on the subway tracks with train in sight.
I would either jump over the third rail to hide in between the tracks, or try to shimmy in that opening under the subway platform. James didn't have a plan, and Kat said she would roll under the platform as well. She said that would take all of her courage because she is very terrified of r-ts. Anyway.
For some reason, I always envision someone either pushing me into the tracks, or falling.
Sometimes my vision is so vivid that I grab the nearest column, just to hold on for dear life.
And for something to hug.
I would never do this in the summer. Only winter.

Another thing that goes through my mind, while walking the streets, has to do with the homeless people. Every time I walk by someone laying in their wool, trash bags mess, I imagine them grabbing my ankles.
They reach out with their car mechanic-by-default hands and bring me down, demanding my feet. I fall, and bruise my left hip. Nothing breaks. I try to scoot away – but they start growling like a pirate. I don’t want to touch their hands because I am convinced that one dirty fingernail alone could give me rabies. So I continue kicking, and maybe smack him with my bag a couple of times.