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By Modrockerhippie., Bayside, NY

~Based on four mostly true stories.~
It was seven A.M. The darkness, although it seemed to have begun only a few seconds ago started to fade to the bright light of day. Well, not actual daylight. Yellow artificial light, filtered through crosshatched glass. It took a moment for Joe’s pupils to dilate, for them to filter in the right amount of light and adjust. He looked around. The car he resided in was mostly empty, dominated only by a large African American woman who watched his slow, measured movements with staring, hateful eyes. “This stop is-Times Square: 42nd Street.” The automated voice mumbled almost incoherently. Joe sighed and got up. He looked up and saw that the large black case and cardboard sign were still on the rack above him. He picked both on the rack and carried them gingerly and sleepily out of the train.

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