Spiraling into an incident, he had seen her, yelled stop. She ran out. He followed, a crowd gathered by the garbage can where the chase ended. The el train's roaring brings all hands to the ears, except hers. Middle-aged plain woman, disordered gray hair, shapeless smock for a dress, chubby, cornered creature, clutching not food, not clothes, not medicine, but a Cosmopolitan magazine, with the cover girl's glamorous eyes scrunched by ten tightened fingers. A daydream exposed. Crying leave me alone, she offers the spoiled merchandise back. The store owner accepts, then throws it in the garbage and says forget it. The crowd whittles away; the woman slowly walks past the grocery, the bakery, the beauty parlor. Another el roars by exactly on schedule.