Times was flying by like the insides of a dryer on turbo speed - kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty...
So my favorite Poem and I took a break and strolled the long way into downtown, along the way nibbling Onigiri from a bakery and Fun with pork skins from a cart on the corner and finally a pile of fried dumplings for $1.
Then we went around the corner and got a lot of candy we grew up with but couldn't find at the local newspaper stand, like bitter licorice and dried sour lemons.
We wandered old streets we knew for as long as we knew our city. Time stopped being kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty-kerbumpikty...
And we remembered how much we loved and how much we were loved.
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.