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May 11, 2007
Metro North rocks and rattles through soot-furred arteries and horizontal flues beneath midtown. I rock on my feet; feel points clatter beneath.

I see them reflected in the door pane. One slim; fit-looking. The other is heavy, lumpy, staring down.

“See, you don’t sit when you can stand. You don’t walk when you can run. You don’t take the elevator, you take the stairs. You don’t stand on the escalator, you walk. And then this...”

He whacks the guy’s belly.

“…will get hard. It’s easy. It’s obvious.”

A study in shame, reflected in a smeared train door window.