Effect

Sometimes the silences speak louder, telling you things you never heard in words. It is reassuring, somehow, you turn them over in your hands and wonder what to make of them. On my way back from the river, I run into a neighbor's super, he shows me empty apartments, little shoeboxes on sixth street and my skin tingles with opportunity. It's delicious just to dream, isn't it? I run into the neighbor later, too, we set a timer and refill beer glasses on the corner. With only an hour it's fortunate we are both New Yorkers enough to speak a mile a minute. 

I come home, pack my bags for escape. August runs away underneath me, but every now and then is there not a glimmer of hope? Set your alarms. The future is arriving now.