Originally posted September 14, 2010
It was on a train back from Coney.
I had been visiting someone half way there and when I got on I could smell the sun and the sea and the sand.
It was a mother and her two daughters and one of the daugher's daughter and that daughter's son. Three generations.
Doing what I had done with my gramma. A day at a beach, bags of wet suits and empty sandwich and cookie containers and just like that little boy, the ride back lulling me to sleep, my head on a warm lap.
**
Related Posts:
Sunday Memories: Our Version of "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay"
Westbeth, Punk, and the Golden Age of Hip-Hop: SD50
-
Westbeth Artist Housing opened in 1970. It is located in the Far West
Village, and spans an entire city block bounded by Washington, Bank, West
and Bethu...
15 hours ago
No comments:
Post a Comment