The two train to Flatbush avenue came pretty quick and I could only hope I’d find a seat. An older woman looked as if she’d be getting off soon so I stayed close. To the right of her was a homeless woman carrying all of her worldly possessions in plastic bags. She had a hunch and smelt like the city streets. We eyed one another thinking the same thought, we both wanted that seat.
Soon the woman grabbed her bag to leave and I let the homeless woman have the seat. Two women next to her rose from their seats as she moved toward them, hit with her pungent odor. A seat opened up close by and we locked eyes again. She thanked me with a nod of the head and I smiled back. She rummaged through her bag as I stared down at her feet. She had no shoes and fastened old sandals together with old material. The flimsy bottoms barely measured up to her size. My mind raced and I considered handing her the shoes on my feet. I mentally sifted through my wallet searching for anything I could offer her. The two block walk to my warm house stocked with food was nothing to how long she may go without shoes. 
How could she be alone like this? Where were her family? Questions I could not help but consider. If I’m gone for two hours my phone has at least two messages from my doting family. Who gave up on her and decided she was no longer worth the time it takes to care?


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