New York snapshots sans camera

Walking down East 9th (I’m a sucker for my old neighborhood), I pass an older man. Ahead of me, hurrying down the block, a middle-aged woman rushes towards him, exclaiming, “I just had the most wond’ful expeeriance of my life! I have to tell you abowt it!”


Leaving the subway station near Ft. Tryon Park, a pint-sized fair-haired boy holds the door open for everyone exiting the tunnel. I know how heavy those doors are, but he just presses his bottom and the palms of both hands against it. “Thank you, honey,” I say. “No problem!”


That block by the park smells like dried leaves. It’s fall. But it’s not fall, it’s hot and sticky and a little unbearable. It smells like fall, though.


The sign on the door of the little shop on 9th St. says, “Don’t worry about the terrorists! Global warming will kill them all anyway.”


The light is always beautiful in my old neighborhood. I miss it so much.


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Filed under New York, randomness

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