Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Times Change

When I’d walk through Washington Square Park in the 90s, the dealers always seemed to know me, and they’d indicate the availability of their wares with a discrete “Trees, smoke, trees, smoke” like a Giger counter ticking more and more quickly as I approached and slowing and fading as they receded in the distance.

Today, as I’m walking down Broadway, a dreadlocked man breaks away from his conversation without looking at me and gives a casual, “Edibles.” as I pass, then goes back to laughing with his friend.

A few blocks later, I walk through NYU, under trees overhanging the sidewalk with long, rain-heavy limbs. The sounds of the city are muted, and I try to listen to the quiet before it’s gone.

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