The Great Escape

New York grew cold this week, big puffs of smoke flowing from everyone's lips and weren't their steps a little quicker, their eyes a little more glued to the ground? Thank god for accessories, because how cute the outfits appear beneath layers of knits. We agonize for half an hour, choosing just the right christmas tree; when we return home, our clothes smell of pine, and I find myself humming a seasonally appropriate tune. I allow myself to get swept away in the holiday, because I could just as easily forget, and I do appreciate the sparkle.

She has said she'll leave for as long as I've known her, and still we picture ourselves 20 years down the line, in the same apartment, in the same life. I go home to a friend for drinks; she says she longs to move back to the country from which she came. I say, will you say that for another ten years and never return? and she shudders at the thought.

The days amass; a hundred times I have thought my time to be up. But New York is home, and in the cold december air I open my eyes to it again. I straighten my back and look the city right in the eye. And there it is. Unwavering. I relax, lean into it, and for this short moment, all is well with the world.