In the world we called our own, this is where we stood before heading off to Coney.
The Delancy Street stop is now all fancy and cleaned up. But, East Broadway still looks like home.
2 days ago
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A My Private Coney project
Flash non-fiction, brief moments and old memories of a city and mother's emotional and physical real estate disappearing at the speed of heartbreak.
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About Me
- c.o. moed
- MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling. Except when it makes the story better. Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.
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1 comment:
when I was a kid and my family lived in Brooklyn heights the words delancey or orchard meant I was getting a new winter coat!
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