The Diaper

The subway always ran slow on the weekend. With no express service it took me nearly an hour to make it into midtown. Being made to wait an additional twenty minutes for the train was not helping things. Feeling antsy I began to pace back and fourth. Then I realized that I should use this experience to my advantage. Everyday I stood in the same place to catch the train. There was so much unexplored territory to either side of me. Without hesitation I began to walk to the far end of the platform. Near its edge the scent of urine filled the air and a dirty diaper lie on the ground with a rat chewing into it. Startled we met eyes.

The rat knew it had been caught performing the most foul of acts, ashamed it retreated to the darkness of the subway tunnel. From there it peered back. Never before had I seen such a wrenched living thing. Even a rotting carcass with its flies and maggots seems more sterile than this perverted act. A faint rumble and thin gust of wind signaled the immanent arrival of the A Train. The rat continued down the tunnel and I stepped back from the edge of the platform. Stepping onto the train I looked back at the diaper.

The rat would be back and soon the diaper would be gone.

168th Washington Heights, New York