It was an ordinary weekday evening — the subway was humming. I was sitting by the window.
At the next stop, the doors opened, and a boy of about ten years old stepped into the car. He looked like he had run away from class — messy hair, wrinkled shorts, holding one worn-out sneaker in his hand. But the main thing — he was barefoot. On one foot, he wore a thin striped sock. He sat down in an empty seat between two passengers and tried not to attract attention.
