Spring 2002 • Vol. XXIV No. 2 FictionApril 1, 2002 |

The Theory of Everything

As the train surged uptown, it seemed to Katya that hundreds of years had passed since her last glimpse of Warsaw. She fumbled with her subway map, wishing for the simplicity of her home city, the byways and shortcuts she knew like the way to her bed in the dark. She was trying to follow the color-coded signs and to watch carefully the names of the passing stops, but her English was still unsteady, and her unfamiliarity quickly became uncertainty. Somewhere in the middle of the map a crowd pushed into the car. More people boarded at the next stop, filling the train until there was nowhere to move, and nothing to hold but the backs of coats and strange shoulders. The temperature of the car rose, and the air began to sweat on the windows. Katya could no longer see the names of the stops through the congestion. She thought they had just passed Columbus Circle, but she wasn't sure. She asked a tall man whose elbow was exploring her shoulder blade. "Seventy-second is next," he said,

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

The Lizard Boy

By Scott Kenemore

As the train surged uptown, it seemed to Katya that hundreds of years had passed since her last glimpse of Warsaw. She fumbled with her subway map, wishing for the […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.