James's head bobbed through the sea of humans. A doughy, cheesy smell drifted on the air from the stand of freshly made pretzels. More graffiti lined the walls in a burst of color among the industrialized subway goers. The train had come to a complete stop, now, and the doors slid open. A cheery woman's voice greeted the passengers over the intercom. The swarm of people began to deplete as they osmosis'd onboard.
But the man didn't seem interested in boarding. Instead, he made his way to the graffitied wall and the pretzel stand.
"Lovely morning, isn't it, sir?" Said the woman at the register.
"Yes, but I was carrying an umbrella." Firestein said.