At a bus stop in Queens, there's a woman who thinks she can control the weather. It's a hot, sunny morning, almost oppressively, and the light reflects against the stainless steel awning. She says to me, jarringly, "it'll be raining soon." I don't remember rain in the forecast. She leaves her sunglasses on but I can tell she's looking me in the eye. "I asked God - does God exist?" I shrug. "You don't know? Well I do. I asked God to kill these people that been stealing from me - my downstairs neighbors - she be stealing from me. I've been trying to move out of here forever, but it's too expensive. I asked God to send rain, hurricanes, floods, to kill these people and let me know he's listening. The rain is coming soon."
The woman on the bench next to me sneaks me a glance and winkse. I get the feeling that crazy people are a part of her commute. I know she's crazy - but there's a part of me that doesn't, a part of me that so loosely trusts myself and my instincts and the laws of science that I believe this woman might be right.