I Watch the Morning - Excerpt

Below is and excerpt from my recent "short-short story" writing exercise. It has made significant growth and benefited greatly from a few edits. As it is an exercise with no intent other than to instruct, I am going to make a few additional edits, however I will begin to explore additional narratives in this form and I continue to grow.

"There is civilized restraint from each passerby as I see a man slowly crumble to the ground. He is wearing all black and appears to be in no pain, but he is not regaining his footing and continues to slowly fold downward. He is wearing glasses and a dark hat. I am moving toward him in slow motion and find that the crowd seems to be ignoring him, yet they are brushing right up against him. There is no blood, no screaming, but he appears to be falling down at a steady rate. I get closer to him and realize that he is slowly, awkwardly, somewhat embarrassingly slipping down the stairs and trying to steady himself on the railing and those who are passing to his left. I see no outstretched hand and no offer of support. Finally, he reaches the bottom of the stairs and is lying with his back to the stairs with his bag still in his hand. He shows no pain, but calls out in mild disgust. I see now that he is a Hasidic Jew. He is a man of about 30 and he has an incredible presence representing a certain dignity despite his recent descent. Still no one helps him. He gets up and is trying to move against the crowd, clearly moving toward the train. I see him from behind now as I passed by him as he was grumbling just after having come to rest at the bottom of the stairs. I watched as he pulled himself and his bag up and fought against the crowd to the train that had passed and watched as his dark suit faded and blended into the suits and walls and dirt and morning crowd that still nudged me up the stairs."