Published in the December 2015 issue of Wherever Magazine.
“On the C train crossing Brooklyn Bridge, four men take off their shirts and start break dancing on the linoleum floor. iPhone hip hop music—its formula sounding oddly vintage now, my ears having been accustomed for too long to K-pop, J-pop, Cantopop—blasts from cheap speakers. But louder still is the dirty squeak of a shoe on plastic, the sweaty puffs of a dude who just flipped over, twice, and the silence of the passengers on the train, who look at the floor and donate nothing.”