Black Market
“The rattling, gray metal cars were filled with staggering, vacant-eyed drunks. There were clusters of Forty-second Street prostitutes. Here and there a late night Irish bartender or transit worker sat in wary silence.
In order to avoid the unpleasant sweet-sour liquor smells, Hudson had stationed himself in the open bridge between two of the jouncing cars. Sometimes when he couldn't sleep, he would ride the mesmerizing subways for hours like this-nothing on his mind but the passing stations... and the speed. It was a little like walking a night patrol in Vietnam.
He'd worked late at the Vets garage. It was down to the agonizing final details now, always the last details to get exactly right.
It all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, on the train… As the subway relentlessly raced north, the heavy metal door between the cars suddenly opened. Two black men in their middle twenties squeezed into the swaying space between the cars.MoreLess
In order to avoid the unpleasant sweet-sour liquor smells, Hudson had stationed himself in the open bridge between two of the jouncing cars. Sometimes when he couldn't sleep, he would ride the mesmerizing subways for hours like this-nothing on his mind but the passing stations... and the speed. It was a little like walking a night patrol in Vietnam.
He'd worked late at the Vets garage. It was down to the agonizing final details now, always the last details to get exactly right.
It all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, on the train… As the subway relentlessly raced north, the heavy metal door between the cars suddenly opened. Two black men in their middle twenties squeezed into the swaying space between the cars.MoreLess
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