Day Two. A Room With a View (or just a view)

If I had the power to get somewhere, where would I go right now? Considering that I just had my vacuum cleaner catch fire, and am immersed in the drudgery of running a household tonight, I would say New York. I would go in a heartbeat. I feel immense love and connection to a place I have never been. I can smell the aromas from the food stalls on the streets, hear the sirens and horns beeping in Times Square. The ads flashing across the neon signage. I would catch an off-Broadway show, thrilled to be supporting writers and actors in their aspirations. I wouldn’t do the touristy ride through Central Park with a horse and carriage. I would walk through, delighting in the squirrels scurrying in the trees. I would meet my kind, my soul group. The artists, poets and dreamers. I would know them and they me. I would have to travel with my daughter. This is her tribe too. We would skip through Central Park, amidst the fairy lights, and I would hail a cab and go directly to Greenwich Village. My child would show samples of her art to a friendly crowd gathered in a bustling café, and we would listen to a singer with guitar accompaniment. The Village would be welcoming, and the smell of pizza slices and garlic would fill the air. We would retire to the brownstone flat we had rented, and be amazed that the city is still as alive at 2am as it was at noon. Windows sealed, the noise is dulled, and we prepare for sleep. Who can sleep! We are in New York!  So much to see and do. We wander the compact flat, and go to the linoleum table in the little kitchen, the hue of butter. We write down ideas, drawings, and lists of places we want to go when we wake. I feel safe here. The block of apartments has a fellow downstairs, and the natives are friendly. There is nothing to fear here, not even vacuums which explode.

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