GRIM

I didn't live in NYC prior to the advent of cell phones, but I would suspect the sidewalks were a slightly different place then.
Oh, sure, you had the crazies that spouted lunacy to every passerby real and imaginary, and I'm sure there were far too many loud conversations between friends that didn't even require subtle eavesdropping to sort out all the hairy details of their all-too exciting lives, but for the most part I would assume that people kept to themselves while walking down the street. Just silently going from place to place with the occasional, "Hey! I'm walking here!"

But now...
Cellphones.
Conversation.
Halves of conversation.
Halves of private conversations.
The details spilled on a sidewalk with no sense or need to guard.
Conversations that would in the way back be held while dragging the phone into the pantry or the bathroom, whispered as family members passed.
Tiny snippets of secrets.
Unsettling little city secrets.

"What makes you suddenly decide it's ok to rape a person?"

To make myself feel better about it, I decided he was talking to Death and was really questioning a specific reap.

...