The Lexington Avenue subway in New York bounces, screeches, whines, and groans from South Ferry to 125th St in East Harlem. Every day 1.3 million passengers suffer the indignities of the noise, the starts and stops, and the peccadillos of fellow travelers.
For many the subway ride provides a brief respite in their harried lives. They stand or sit with eyes closed, even with the noise. These sleepers seem oblivious to the environment around them. Are they headed to their second or third jobs? Is the #6 merely one leg in their long journey from Mahhatten to an affordable home far away? Do the brief nods relieve the stresses in their lives?
Who knows? Like Beaudelaire, we flâneurs walk the city streets absorbing the stories we see and imagine.