The Broken Chair

Eight years.

I close my eyes and the subway lumbers through time.

I am looking out the window and I see that man falling. His tie above him in vertical surrender. Then, I watched helpless and frozen. Now, I remember - still helpless, still frozen. I want so desperately to save him. I want to lift him.

I am falling with him. His face is my face. His hands are my hands. His tears are now my tears. We ask each other "why?" His answer is my answer - no answer.

He is always with me.

I don't know his name but someday, in the hereafter, I hope to.