It’s a cold, windy morning and the streets are dim and foggy, swirling with ice and snow. The traffic has somehow disappeared, I can’t hear it or the subways at all from my little room. Instead, I think I actually hear the past out there hanging uneasily in the air, rising and falling, moaning and sighing, walking the neighborhoods of New York in search of redemption.
I almost feel as though if I don’t concentrate hard enough when I leave, I’ll step out the door and find myself in another New York—of the 20th century? The 19th? The 18th? Hard to know. It’s a brutal kind of beautiful out there, in any case, the kind that only nature, when she’s forgotten herself and isn’t being self-conscious, can inadvertently create.
It’s also St. Valentines day.
Happy Valentines day, u. xoxo + love.