July 11, Mr. Wei 

Mr. Wei stood near the entrance of the downtown subway. Despite the uncomfortable humidity, he decided it was best to button his white collared shirt all the way to the top. He shuffled a newspaper in his hand, but reading seemed impossible since he could not keep his eyes on the words. Instead, he glanced up the block. His eyes narrowed as a crowd gathered on the opposite corner, waiting for the light to change. He wanted to put his hand up to block the afternoon sun, but he didn’t want to look suspicious. The sign changed from a red hand to a white man, and people busily moved toward Mr. Wei’s corner.

And then he saw her.

Would she see him?

He stepped partially into the stairwell leading down to the train. People looked at him annoyed. But it was the only way he knew to secure her gaze.

“Oh, hello there!” she chirped, straight golden hair flowing down her back. She held her purse in one arm, and dragged that boy behind her with the other. He stared up with dumb cow eyes. “Jeremy, say hello to Mr. Wei.”

“Karen! Hello! Nice to see you! How are you!” It all poured out, almost too fast, Wei thought. But he had held it in so long, it could only be blurted.

“We’re good, you?”

“I didn’t ask about we,” Wei thought to himself. “YOU! I asked YOU!”

Karen barely looked up for a reply as she continued down the steps. Wei followed them with his hand raised, ready to say more. But she went full speed ahead, dragging that calf behind her, and Wei wasn’t quick enough to get back into her line of vision unless he threw himself down the stairs, catapulting over the crowd. The train could be heard rumbling into the station and suddenly crowds of people swam up the stairs before he had a chance to act. Wei found himself pressed against a wall, his button up shirt drenched in sweat, still not having said what he tried to say each Monday evening.