41st & Park

The sun rises one minute earlier each day; you adjust your alarm and smile through yawns. There's a warmth on your skin that feels hopeful: sunlight. The dog lies in a sliver of it on the floor, basking. She gets up every time you move just in case you're going to the kitchen to drop food where she can reach it. It's a simple joy. Midtown freezes against your skin but it is New York to the teeth and you adore every step along 42nd street, oblivious of the crowds. There's a buzz in your hair, a breath in your lungs.

It may be just the day after the dip.

But you'll take every high you can get.