New Beginning 765

The old subway station was like an art gallery for abandoned rusty signs. Nailed across the grimy wall in one snaky line were "No littering," "No smoking," "No urinating," "No magic," and, for some reason, "No cameras."

A herd of beggars set up camp beneath all this as they stubbed out cigarettes and pissed in a corner.

Wish I had a cellphone, thought Misha. I'd take a picture.

She had to wonder where all these beggars came from, what their stories were. They could be soldiers, crippled by a lon...