He was a thinker who couldn’t stop. When the thoughts came, he walked out, down the street, and into the next subway station.
He was at a bar one night when the thoughts came. He propped a hand under his chin and started walking. In a station, he got on and sat down.
At night, the stares are longer and the laughs cut deeper. But he doesn’t mind. It’s just people, just noise. He had to reach the end of his thought.
It’s important for one to finish thoughts, uninterrupted, he thought. Where would one be if one could not—