Friday night turned into Saturday morning when no one was looking. Black stilettos became dog-walking sneakers, the clutch a morning newspaper as I slowly made my way home west on Houston. My body crumbling to pieces and my lips so dry and cold, still I walked determinedly onward, remembering to look in the right direction of one-way streets and avoiding a mid-morning fender bender. Leaving behind obscure German music and smoke in the living room. Remembering the address of the underground club for future reference and stolen swank restaurant soap bars in tow.
Sunrise over the fire escape before packing up belongings. Finally sinking slowly into my own bed and drowning out the sounds of the builders downstairs with sweet soothing images of the Lower East Side after dark. Great things will happen, if you let them.
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i'm coming to visit. whether you want it or not.
ReplyDeleteanytime darling, you are always welcome. We will ramble the seldomly sleeping streets together.
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