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Cough is the Loneliest Number


I believe I have a cold of sorts. The type where you cough in random spurts and are fine untill the next time your throat runs dry. Coughing on the New York trains is kind of funny. It can get so quiet when you are the only one coughing so much- as if you’re inconveniencing everyone else with your ailment. If someone just coughs once I think to myself “ah, I have a brother on this train.”

So I was coughing towards Fifi, where standing in front of us stood an Asian women. it was a fit of coughing I couldn’t stop.

Within moments the Asian women turned around and held onto a pole on the opposite side of the train, with her back now facing us.

“She forgot her Michael Jackson nurse mask,” I joked with Fifi. Moments later we noticed sitting right in front of her was an Asian man covering his mouth with a napkin. I guess she too had to find her own brother to band with.

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