Sean Singer

Today in the taxi a passenger got in and she was crying. I don’t know why. We left Astoria for Williamsburg. I gave her a little package of tissues and she went on her way. Kafka said crying is especially alarming for me. I cannot cry. When other people cry, it seems to me like a strange, incomprehensible natural phenomenon. I thought maybe she was going through a breakup, or perhaps it was a passage in a novel. Some people think of Williamsburg as the “hipster apocalypse” and others, the Orthodox, know the Lord is there with them. She’s pushing a shopping cart full of plastic bottles rescued from trash cans.

Crying literally means “to ask for loudly.” She mumbles through a drop of saltwater, but She’s really saying: You are worthy of asking and having your question heard.