She thought she’d cry when down the subway station, in semi-darkness and damp, it smelled like the end of hope. But there were three little frightened kids beside her to play strong for.
Then the silence fell, tenderly. The guys in khaki came and took them up to the crispy spring air. The vibrant titmouse trill pierced the debris of the trashed concrete and glass. So joyful and free. She couldn’t help hot tears running down her cheeks.