When I moved to New York, almost 20 years ago now, I couldn't afford to take the subway, so I walked everywhere.
Tonight, I'm walking through the Lower East Side, remembering all those other walks, feeling the city speaking through the soles of my shoes.
A man standing in the park on the corner lights a cigarette and the smoke swirls arounds his shroud of shredded winter coats. The wind picks up the rags of him and spins them with leaves as I shove my hands deeper into my pockets and run across the street.
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