day.

I spent the entire day wandering, walking up and down the streets of Brooklyn in the rain, and the not-rain, and the not-quite rain. I wore my jacket and a backpack, and I walked - walked everywhere. My feet were tired and then they weren’t. My legs were numb and then they weren’t. The sky was always gray, with sine waves and parabolas marking the darker clouds from the light, and sometimes the rain went sideways. I had my umbrella but I rarely used it, and all the time my glasses were covered in a light mist, or with big drops, and all the time I walked - I walked. I was at the Brooklyn Heights promenade staring out over the misty waters at the Statue of Liberty, which appeared tiny from such a distance, and as if she had her back turned on us. I was at a used bookshop in Dumbo, sitting on a low couch reading Jean Genet. I was in Greenpoint, munching a doughnut from Peter Pan and wandering along the waterfront. In Williamsburg at a vintage clothing store. Down Driggs, up Bedford, down Atlantic, up Front, left at this corner, right at this, and straight on till it feels right to turn. Now I’m back home, exhausted. I prepared two veggie burgers to the sound of rain coming down hard now - finally - and ate them in the unimaginable calm and comfort of my well-lighted room. A copy of “A Thief’s Journal” by Jean Genet is waiting for me on my bed. Cats are meowing in the hall.

Day well spent.