Ticker Tape

New York City remains.
Except for a new bicycle lane along Hudson Street, not much has changed. I step out in jet lagged vacation airs to find people hurrying to work with iced coffees and clothes a precise mix of heat proof and professional. Walk along the river where a few late morning joggers weave past nannies and their babies. My skin smells of sunshine and just a hint of salt. The absurdity of change twists through my synapses. It is at once like I was never gone, and like I haven't been here for years. My body has grown new edges, and I shift to make them fit again.

An old typewriter has made its home on a desk in the corner of my cramped room on Morton Street. I while away hazy hours clack-clack-clacking silly nonsense and fragile honesties onto its rolls. Something tangible about creating words straight to paper that means you cannot hide from them. Rules for Living a Life.

1. Do things that scare you.