I don’t know if the town had grown poorer or if I had grown older. I’m sure, added to the recession and the stark winter, it was a sad combination. The storefronts were often vacant and the houses sat back against the county roads were littered with abandoned cars and foreclosure notices. The streets were swept with crusty leaves and balled up run-off from indiscriminate trashcans. It had been bitter cold for weeks, and I was cold and I was bitter, too, and prone to silent repetition.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth