I went to stand and wait outside. I waited outside, by the train rail, by the tables set up, where people sat around them eating. I was standing near two young Charedi men eating away their meat.
Just eating it, and smoking. The smoke swirled by me and I smelled it for a moment but then the smell passed on. Both of them sat nonchalantly spread out on their chairs, seemingly serene, having a nice meal.
The man farther from me slowly finished his cigarette, I saw.
The train rolled by and I moved back from the tracks, in toward the people.
His cig came to an end, and with two confident fingers at the end of a long white sleeve
Ever so vainly flicked with his two fingers, the cigarette, to a distance of three meters where it landed on the battered ground.
And he continued eating his hamburger.
And then I cried.