1. A Hispanic man sits down next to me on a crowded F train. He looks like he’s in his mid-40s. He’s wearing glasses and a parka. He’s clean cut. He seems, inexplicably, like a good man.
    He pulls out a big textbook. I look over his shoulder, and notice that it’s an elementary school math workbook. He’s reading a section on counting coins. How many nickels are in a dollar? How many pennies in a nickel? I’m not sure if he’s reading the book because he’s learning English, or because he’s learning basic math.

    Either way, it makes me cry.

    A Brie Grows in Brooklyn: Subway Vignettes in the Wake of a Tragedy 

    You should read this whole thing, because it’s very lovely.