Down the stairs, the smell in nose: ammonia, in the 14th street subway station a figure a form a sweatshirt with no head. People walking around, tripping over. The head in the chest. The dark and filthy hands collapsed on the step, where the dummy is propped, is not falling over, is temporarily ignorable in the rush. A puddle is spreading, urine, the urea is biting is noticed is demanding attention, is expanding to a certain predetermined limit. The people hold their breath. Hems brush the floor. A gale wind whips the crowd, it shivers, it turns its back yet someone notices the empty pile of clothes abandoned there.