6/24/09 - "Woman is the N*gger of the World"

The 6 train is packed, but no one sits in those seats. A red stain, like a wet butterfly, a vagina-print, smears across the powder blue bench, and everyone gives a wide berth, some pretending not to see it, some wrinkling their noses in disgust, some shaking their heads in resignation ("ah, this city, what can you do?").

Finally, as the train reaches maximum density, someone sits near it: a young woman, hard face set in annoyance, looking pointedly away from the blood smear. Her tensed shoulders and upper arms are bare, and on each bicep are dark, angry-looking bruises, almost black against her golden skin, and each about the size and rough shape of a hand.