In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

9 Same Lady, Different Unicycle Reaching the metro station, soaked, galoshes sloshing, commuters stop to empty things— a hood, a tote—into the sidewalk grate; the overhang ladles their hair with rain. Bevies of wet umbrellas ruffle past. They hurry underground, all trundling the same dark luggage, and learn the Red Line north is making only local stops. Enough, they think: another morning’s ticker tape looped with bad news. Too soon, they’ve had enough. Squinting through platform steam, they hate to wait, heads spinning, phones flipped out like hands—Back off, I’m searching for a signal—never mind the squatter by the bottom stair who thrums his old guitar. Hard to imagine how one finds an opening through coats and ponchos, but she does, this lady on a unicycle. A child tugs his mother’s sleeve, points, Look! and they watch her thread the madding masses, drop a dollar for the song, and pedal on, tilted into the gray, available light. ...

Share