Stray
by Wes Berger John couldn't have said exactly why he did it. She didn’t look that old, maybe in her late fifties. She didn’t seem to be struggling to stay on her feet. But when he noticed her get up and let the authentically old lady take her seat, he was standing before he had time to think about it and by then it was too late. “Would you like to sit?” She turned her head and her eyes blazed right into him with discomfiting intensity. He instantly wished he had stayed seated. “What a gentleman!” The subway car was crowded, especially for this time of night. There had been some sort of service delay. Everyone had waited longer than usual for the train and a collective, low-grade hostility permeated the atmosphere inside. The riders pressed involuntarily against each other with every lurch and acceleration, glaring and grunting like penned animals as she pushed through them to where John had been sitting. She leaned in too close to him. “Thank you.” Her voice was loud in the...
