"Maybe Mable"
The subway was bustling with people. I was lucky to have found a seat and I sat, my backside indignantly plastered to the hard metal chair. I often wondered if I'd ever be able to lift my weight off the seat, and when I wasn't contemplating the possibilities of me getting up in time for my train, I was watching the people around me in the subway. There was a mother dragging her two children behind her, desperately urging them to hurry up. I wondered where the father was. " So many broken families these days ," I thought. Then there was an old man who was being fussed over by a woman wearing several layers of make-up and too little clothing. She seemed too old to be his daughter, and too young to be his wife. What people do for money . A middle-aged father passed me by, talking to his unresponsive daughter that was too busy poking at her mobile phone. These teens are too self-obsessed . A train whooshed into the subway and there was a crowd that swarmed at the doors of