Something horrific has happened. The sidewalks around Dewey Square teem with the dazed, the desperate, and the depressed. Most stream away quickly in search of relief. One man in a rumpled suit collapses on a bench, phone pressed to his ear, and tells his wife he won’t be home for supper and he loves her. Children shriek. An elderly couple in Harvard sweatshirts agree that they never should’ve left Oklahoma. A man in a Sox jacket lights his cigarette and grunts, seemingly content to watch the world around him burn. The red line has broken at rush hour. Again.
Scott Colby, 36 Years old,