The Ghosts Of Manhattan

I felt the energy the minute I exited JFK. Like a dip in a cold plunge, my body tightened and my mood lifted. I slammed the yellow cab door and was on my way.


As we approached the tunnels and the bridges to Manhattan I saw the grey skyline clashing against the cloudless blue skies. Here it was again—the unbearable beauty of New York City. 


Its radiance, its verticality, and its depth.


I decided to cancel my afternoon plans. I’d just walk around and take it in. I had forgotten how long I hadn’t been here. I didn’t really know why, but I was terrified at the idea of coming back. 

—

I walked out of my hotel into the streets of Nolita and decided to let my intuition guide my steps. I wandered with my nose in the air, tightening my coat around me, feeling prey to the noise and the light, unable to find my stride.


That’s when I saw her in the window of one of my former haunts—the old me. I think she smiled at me.


Around me, young people were coming and going. So stylish and so fast and so busy. So…