Sweeping the Clouds Away

Another sunny day. Another day among the millions, shedding scarves and coats like petals in the soft air.

Having taken the afternoon off to run errands, I sat on the downtown 6 train reading Sylvia (always Sylvia, lately). As we stopped at 28th street, I looked up and recognized what used to be my home station. In my heart welled such a sense of familiarity, of comfort. I rarely ride the 6 anymore; it was like meeting an old friend. We moved on, I dove back into my book.

I was so consumed by her words that I nearly missed getting off on 14th street. I felt as if in a bubble. Other people were not there, there was no outside world. I got a little nauseous, wanting desperately to keep reading, to stay on that train until it reached brooklyn and then ride it all the way up again. I pictured myself going back and forth, across the boroughs, completely ignorant to the landscape passing outside the windows (naturally, the the landscape is rather bland on the subway). Instead, I stepped blinking into the bustle of Union Square, creeping along the edge and sneaking into Barnes & Nobles, errands postponed until further notice. Over a large Starbucks (well not the large. Who can drink those? they're huge.) I returned to the enchanted land of literature, nervously counting down the pages remaining and already sad that they'll run out too soon. In the back of my mind the silly shame that this uninspired styrofoam cup and giant chain bookstore should give me such relief, such a haven. But I love this place and its four floors of a break from reality. And I love how she describes life as though she truly knew me. Something inside me stirs, uncertain if it desires being awakened.

I walked home through Washington Square Park, the setting fall sun streaming through yellowing leaves and mosaic tiles of musical acts dotting the pavement. Sitting on a park bench for a smoke, I intently watched the squirrels, unafraid, scrambling about as they will. And all I could discern was the countless ways people sounded, as they walked past. Amazed how many dragged their feet. Ssshhp. Ssshhp. Ssshhp. The clickings of high heels, worn so confidently but unsteady behind the scenes. Sauntering by, all sounds in my head, as though these were not truly people but little beads of mercury, playing games and making music in my head.

What magic this life is, after all.