IT PAYS by Allyson Darling   Violet-colored feathers encircled my eyes; the elastic tied around my head pulled at my hair — a Mardi Gras mask wasn’t exactly the item I had imagined wearing to protect my identity. I lied on my stomach with my feet splayed out on a

Believe it or not, this morning marked the second time that I saw someone clip their nails on the subway.  At least it wasn’t their toenails, like the first time around.  That incident happened during the summer, when it was hot enough to wear sandals– the thick, B.O.-pungent air, and