Sensation rewind

I have tried to stay out of this story but here I am.

I am standing on a street in the city. On my way to the R train. I can see someone standing in a window several stories high in an ornate building overlooking the park. If I were up in that building, I’d look out of the window too and wonder who was down on the ground and how we got here and why and I would admit what I have already admitted a thousand times: We are not much. We are confused and brilliant and daft.

On this street at this hour is a thin man in a huge coat. I overtake him easily as he makes his way down the avenue. With the old fashioned streetlights and the backdrop of the park, it could be another decade altogether. He reminds me of dad in several years.

A man and his dog walk toward me and move to pass on either side. He lowers the dog’s leash so that I can easily step over and for a fraction of a second while my foot is suspended in the air, I’m a little girl about to skip rope and he’s my friend swinging the jump rope handle. Then he and the dog are gone, along with the sensation.

~ by Natalie on 31 March.