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.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Sunday Memories: Shopping At The Mall
Either in church or school or synagogue basements or auditoriums, or even sometimes on the street, closed to traffic, that's where we got almost everything we got, except for the stuff we got left carefully by stoops and lampposts, which was the universal sign of "Up For Grabs!" and the rare purchases from Macy's.
So today, St. Marks' Church once-a-year street fair unfolded all the neighborhood's treasures up for sale, a bunch of clothes for free from a table closing up five minutes before the fair ended, a much needed lamp shade for $5 and the joy of staring at the "Trigger Happy Polka" lady.
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.