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The Postscript: The Cigar Box

I spent the weekend in New York City.

I hadn’t been to New York in quite a while. I was performing at a theater conference and so was traveling alone, without my husband, Peter.

New York intimidates me — as all big cities do. I am not a nervous traveler, generally, but I keep my possessions close at hand and my eyes open — which is why I noticed the young man in the black athletic shirt on the subway.

I was taking the subway for the first time in a long time and, so far, I was doing pretty well. Okay, I did choke when I got to my first turnstile. I pushed the bar too quickly and...

 

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