On the T this morning was a tall, well- (if strangely-) dressed middle aged woman, with horn rimmed glasses, black Reeboks, a single long braid, and a long, grey wool coat with three black panels sewn into the back. She looked schoolmarm-ish, was smiling a lot, and seemed painfully, earnest. She walked quickly, and needlessly, pacing around the platform and train. She seemed to be everywhere. I figure she's some kind of colonel or lieutenant in the Salvation Army, home on leave for a couple of weeks.
And everytime I saw here, my iPod was one step ahead of me. First, I was listening to Killing Floor, by Verbena. Then a bit later there was Running With the Devil, and Jamie's Cryin', both by Van Halen. And finally Hell's Bells.
And as she did her snap-turns exiting the train, I felt that we made a good team, keeping good and evil in balance.