After the movie we walk the west side of the park toward home, strolling in that blissful clarity that often comes after a really good film, like you’re in your own movie, everything in focus and magically lit. The snow and the streetlights help, too, and the warm light from the brownstone windows glowing contentedly out into the cold night air.
Katie asks, “Is it hand-holding time?” which of course it is, almost always. It’s just a moment, the two of us together, her small hand in mine, walking down the sidewalk, forever.
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