One a.m.

I wish I lived on the upper west! he explained, when I for the nth time assumed that's where he lived. Something about him just screams UWS. That's what I want; married, having kids. They all have kids up there, it's made for it. The night ends early; I walk alone down Morton Street and am not tired.

I forget that people here, too, want that life. That millions of them are living it. They've found their one, against all the odds of dating in the city, and they want to settle down. They just want to do it here. No weird artsy job, no mad youthful endeavors in the LES night. They want their nine-to-five, their family, their life in order.

One a.m. and my book is spiraling out of control. Twists and turns, I am not in control. But I see clearly how my subconscious weaves its tales into the word processor. My subconscious could not care less about the upper west side. And at the end of the night, that's the company I prefer to take to home.