Commuter Complaint #3

Not a complaint, really. Just an observation...

A man and a woman on the Manhattan-bound F train yesterday morning. They seemed familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen them before. Maybe down at Coney Island? Both in their mid-thirties, they had pile of bags strewn around them on the subway. They did not talk. The man sat there, slumped over on the woman's shoulder. She paid no attention to him, but focused her eyes on a stuffed sock she held in her hands. Her face was fixed in a state of pain - not crying, just frozen. A few stops later, I noticed a small kitten had partially emerged from the sock, head tilted back, it's little arms limp. It, too, was frozen still. As we descended under the East River, the woman and the kitten remained motionless. It was obvious that the infant cat was dead. The man drooled onto the woman's shoulder. Occasionally, he half-opened his eyes to gaze up at his traveling partner. We reached East Broadway. No movement. Delancey, 2nd Avenue, Broadway-Lafayette. Nothing. At W4, I pushed my way out of the crowded subway car. Just as I was heading out the door, the man coughed - startling the kitten in the sock. Standing on the platform, I watched the tiny animal through the car window as it stretched and went back to sleep. The woman didn't flinch.