Geronimo

The rain starts, and it stops. Brooklyn swims in perfect winds and I haven't the time to consider all my wrong turns, shouldn't I be safe in the nook of my own borough by now? The Empire State building gleams at you between the crooked streets, how it always sets you right when the ground is shaking. Every now and then my cells align, like a deep breath I didn't realize had been missing.

When most of your time is spent drowning, you take any break you can get.