Today I saw a petite, elegant Asian woman in a little black dress with waves of dark hair to her shoulders. One hand securely wrapped around the metal subway pole, the other held a salmon colored - sepia in the uneven subway light - newspaper. Her hair brushed her cheek, her face intent on the article and, when I glanced over, the truncated headline that caught my eye was "What would Roosevelt do". The rest of the words were insignificant, hidden behind the fold.
Who was this Roosevelt? Teddy? FD Eleanor?
Caged by the antique sheen by the paper, for a moment I wondered it might be one of them, the paper decades old, the elegant stranger a walker through time.
Or maybe a walker through possibilities. Maybe she came from another world, another reality, another 2012, with another powerful Roosevelt emerging on the field before the looming election. Another Roosevelt with no patience for nonsense and a penchant for accomplishment.
When she exited at her station, I wondered if I could follow her there.
(In the interests of full disclosure the paper was the Financial Times.)
To be fair, I often ask myself "What would Roosevelt do". And not always hypothetically. Our cat has odd habits.
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