It was the 4 and 5 line. I was heading up to transfer to the 6 and get out at Bleeker.

He stood there, hunch over, neck bent, head bowed down past his shoulders. Arms hung limply at his side, hands even with his knees. He reminded me of a dog that was being scolded - head drooped, back arching down, tail between its legs. But his face held no expression. Not of sadness, joy, fear, expectation. His eyes had no glow to them - no life. Dead green eyes. The world just moved in front of them, seemingly never registering in his mind.

What could have beaten him down so badly - brought him to this nether-existence?

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