/fa/ - Fashion

>>6722405

"Jacob, face this man." The boy turned around, faced me and made eye contact, sitting in his junkie mother's lap as if it were a little throne.
"When you get the itch, the itch to do something that might make you a father, you think of me, okay?" Jacob seemed to register what this meant for him on a base level, but all I saw in his face was a half-second flicker. He knew he was unwanted, but he had to remain strong.
The train arrived at Delancey street and this was apparently their stop, because Jacob began frantically trying to get his mother to leave the train. She had so many bags and purses (as junkie women are so often apt to have for some reason) and he was running back and forth between the train door and his mom, unloading the bags as she nodded out mid-sentence and made a few abortive attempts to touch my face and inner thigh.
I was just dumbfounded at this point, but young Jacob managed to drag his mother off the train piece by piece, even as she begged me to come with her, most likely to someplace horrible and empty where hope is sold in wax paper bags at 10 dollars a pop.
When the train doors closed again and the carriage began to move, I looked up to see everyone was staring at me, perhaps looking to see if something had rubbed off of the woman onto me. The car was pretty packed, and the only free seat was next to me but nobody else would take it.
I hope Jacob's doing okay this evening.