noticing kerry there was a figure in a black hooded jacket and black pants sitting on a bench on the subway platform. they were slumped over, head between their knees, arms dangling limply by their sides. their hands were empty and some kind of liquid was dripping from the bench. no one seemed to notice this, or they'd noticed and decided to unnotice, not knowing what they could do about it, or not caring, or not wanting to care. and it made me feel conspicuous to be standing there looking at this figure instead of going to stand somewhere else and fiddle with my phone while i waited for the northbound train. i wondered if they were dead, and i didn't get very close but i thought i could see some faint movement in their hands, stirred possibly by the unconscious act of breathing. i wondered if i should go tell the transit worker in the little box by the turnstiles, if anyone had already told them, or worse maybe no one had, and i wondered if going to do that would cause me to miss my train. i knew that if i didn't say something, i'd spend the day wishing i had and dreading coming back to still see them there. i skipped up the steps and knocked on the glass window. the transit worker had a dapper little cap and glasses and an angular face. "there's a person on the platform--" i started to say. he gestured, mouthed that he couldn't hear me. i leaned over the turnstile so i could speak into the voice box, whatever you call it. "can you hear me?" i said. he nodded. "there's a person on the platform--they're passed out, maybe, they're face down." "are they sitting on a bench?" i paused. i didn't know if you could call what was happening sitting. "they're on the bench, but they're not sitting. it's not good. they're not good." he nodded, said thanks. he looked resigned. i wondered if anybody had already told him, if he was going to call someone, what they would do. maybe he was thinking, 'great. why does it have to happen on my shift?' of course the figure was still there when i got back down to the platform. and there were more people, some teenagers joking around, a wide man lighting a cigarette. no one seemed to notice the figure or the liquid. i wondered if i was hallucinating. then the train came and i threw myself down onto one of the seats and shut my eyes. 220329 ... tender_square "how did skating go today?" "it was fine," he said. "did you...see your girl?" her voice was bright as she casually posed the question. she didn't know if it was curiosity or torment that lead her to ask. he laughed softly. "no," he said, dragging the o slightly in disappointment. "that's too bad." "i think i saw her stuff in the locker room—you get to know people's gear," he explained. "so she must've been on a different rink." the passing detail seemed innocuous enough, until the following day when she realized he wasn't one for noticing anything, at least not when they were together. 221210 what's it to you? who go blather from