Waiting for a train in a Brooklyn station I sit down on a bench, and a short while later a young woman sits down next to me. She pulls out a book and begins reading. The train is delayed, and as I haven’t brought my own book with me, my gaze drifts absently around the station, eventually settling back on the woman next to me. I notice her lips are moving as she reads, but I don’t think much of it. Then, finally, the train arrives, and as I’m getting up I steal a glance at her book: to my surprise it’s Kierkegaard’s Either/Or.