Overheard on BART

I was riding back from my writers' workshop in the East Bay this afternoon. In the seat ahead of me were two young Latinas, with two strollers with a baby in each (the babies in pink, watching their mothers, indistinguishable from most six-month old kids). The women each a fuzzy red ponytail elastic holding her hair. One of them was on the phone trying to negotiate a lift from the 24th and Mission BART station to San Francisco General Hospital. "We're trying to get to see Mohammed; he got shot yesterday." Totally calm, as if this was totally a part of life. As I guess it is.

Hope Mohammed's doing well.