That's the new World Trade. That's Donna with her new blue and yellow hair.
That's Fanny with a crabapple tree. Her hair is as it ever was. As is mine, only longer and whiter.
This is the springtime in New York City.
People are on the streets. Eating at Odeon in TriBeCa, where we were. Talking about their vaccinations and the outdoor summer shows coming up. Just walking and looking around. Yeah, mostly wearing masks.
The people who moved to New Jersey or their country houses are coming back. They are sick of the burbs. They want to see other people. They want to eat at any of the other outdoor cafes that have sprung up in every neighborhood, often in the street. They want to ride Citibikes and scooters and jog down by the river. They want to be together. Out on the street.
This too is city life. We live in these little stacked boxes so we can go out on the streets and be together. And sometimes, often, when the building is as old as mine, the boxes leak.
I didn't realize it until I took down the curtain in the bathroom to wash, but the window molding is destroyed, and the ceiling is about to fall in. The super thinks the steam pipe is leaking. He says they will come to tear down my ceiling today to see where before the heat goes off for the season.
Springtime in the city.
Eek!
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