Click: true moments, stories too short for the stage.
Six a.m. Stuffed subway car.
People are puffed like pigeons. Bristling with scarves coats mittens. Scowling at their phones.
But one man in his seventies, he’s sitting smiling gently to himself.
Long knitting needles flash and flash over half a dark gray scarf.
And in 1955 when this man was ten, breaking gender rules wasn’t just a reason for your father to beat you, it was justification for psychiatric intervention.
And yet here he is.
The yarn spilling from his needles, the warm woolen scarf slowly coming to life.
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