Pessimist Rain

Why are we waiting for the war to start? Eyes glazed over while the news only serves as a timetable for when the monuments will go up.

Rain starts to fall as I walk under the arch memorializing the soldiers and sailors who died in the Civil War, and the air looks unsettled, unfriendly and wary, gray clouds yellowing sickly with light from an unknown source.

It's gonna get darker when the storm starts in earnest.
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One year ago: Not Complaining
Two years ago: Bored
Three years ago: Bass-awkwards
Four years ago: I've Got The Look (How Do I Get Rid Of It?)

Breaking Off the Sky

As I walk to meet Katie after her shift, snow flurries begin to fall, but they only become visible when they almost hit my face. I strain my eyes to see them against the dark buildings to no avail.

They're like little splinters off the pearly gray sky, dissolving when they hit the ground. I pull my jacket around me, but I don't really feel cold.
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One year ago: The Price of Inattention
Two years ago: Whatcha Thinking?
Three years ago: Too Many Teeth
Four years ago: The Longest Joke Ends When You Die

Different Trains

My brain has chewed on this decision for long enough without coming to any conclusion. "I need to stop thinking about this for awhile, so I can make a decision," I say to Katie as we're standing in the subway station.

"See, I can't stop thinking about something until I make a decision," Katie says thoughtfully.

The lights of a train coming around the corner light up the tracks, followed by the roar as the train itself pulls in and grinds to a stop, while on the other side of the platform, a maintenance train, diesel engine chugging away, slowly crawls through the station without stopping.
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One year ago: She Didn't Even Know He Was Gone
Two years ago: You've Been Warned
Three years ago: FaceTime Isn't for the Weak
Four years ago: You Kiss Your Toddler With That Mouth?

Out Of Balance

For about a week, my foot has been going numb as I walk around the city - a sure sign of some sort of nerve compression.

In response, I've shifted the strap of my (often very heavy) bag to the other shoulder.

I can feel the weight of it shifting the angle of my hips as I walk home from the subway, and I think about the way that we try to balance ourselves, unable to avoid the burdens of life, overcompensating and getting out of whack until parts of us go dead or numb and we're forced to change.

I check in with my foot as I step off the curb into the crosswalk, and feeling seems to be coming back into it nicely.
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One year ago: Reversal: Earth/Sky
Two years ago: Intrusive Thoughts
Three years ago: What Else Am I Gonna Do?
Four years ago: Snow Walk
Ten years ago: Of Course

The Mirror

"New York is different from my home," says the Austrian artist. He's here opening up his first American show, and it's been pretty rough for him, what with agents trying to gouge him and galleries with contracts going for their pound of flesh.

I think of all the trouble I've ever had here, all the times things haven't gone my way, sometimes through no fault of my own, but just as often because of something I did.

"New York is a mirror," I finally say.
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One year ago: Danny Pt. 2
Two years ago: She Knew
Three years ago: Poor Workman Blames His Tools
Four years ago: Low Blood Sugar Blues
Ten years ago: Dream of Divine Love

She's Patient With Me

"I wish you nothing but blessings, and a long happy marriage," the guy says slowly, carefully, after taking a look around the booth at all of Katie's sculptures. He turns to me with a smile: "But if you ever got divorced, can you imagine having to take all these into court to do the division of property?"

I laugh, and he warms to the topic. "Or, like, going to counseling, and telling her," miming a beggar kneeling, "'You're patient with butterflies, why can't you be patient with me?'"
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One year ago: Meeting Danny
Two years ago: Expertise
Three years ago: Biometric Timebomb
Four years ago: Thankless Work

Pinky Swear

"Please don't run back into a burning building for any of our pets," Katie says to me as she's washing dishes while we clean up after the Super Bowl.

I must have given her a look, because her expression darkens. "Scott, I'm gonna need you to pinky swear to that."

"I don't think I can do that," I say as I herd the dog to the door for her evening walk.
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One year ago: Manipulation
Two years ago: Subway Slashings
Three years ago: Sounds the Same
Seven years ago: The Smell Test
Ten years ago: Eli Manning Is Pretty Cool, Yeah