she was exotic smelled like citrus when he stood by her late evenings on the subway always the third car from the front always breathing in alien lemon blossoms, the sweetness of a place he could not be but which hovered about her like timeless minutes at one PM she retrieves her lunch from the refrigerator in the staff lounge eats in her cubicle always the same thing the loneliness always eating last night's leftovers, along with the oranges that were four for a dollar at her local grocery and whose scent would not leave her body