Human Kind
Last night something happened for the first time in my 17 years of commuting by rail. As the train began rolling north, I concentrated on proofreading pages of the magazine that you now hold in your hands. Slowly, it dawned on me: “I left my purse in my office,” I said to no one in particular. No ticket, no money, no ID—and no one I knew in sight to help me out. The conductor was headed down the aisle, and I wondered if I’d be tossed out at the next stop, leaving me miles from office or home. Then the woman across from me leaned forward. “Can I buy your ticket for you?” she asked. A man sitting two seats over from her added, “Do you need a ride home when we get to the station?”