D train 36th to W4th standing randomly. My coffee from Pamela’s sits loosely in my black pack pouch freeing my hands to Tweet witty about the moment.

Grand Street exodus, I move to sit. I spill some coffee, a four inch puddle, Brazilian Roast, two splenda.

Feeling bad I focus on my err, watching as it moves with train rhythm, becoming. Surface tension holds an edge, doing, no intent, no obvious sentience, and then a drop breaks free only to return in response to braking.

Broadway & Lafayette rush to the door, thirty itinerant shoes come and go. Disturbing.