Tuesday, November 17, 2020 - Flooded with a quiet light / a mechanical world in indigo blue / or Metropolitan Lumber & Hardware. by Jordan Myers
Flooded with a quiet light / a mechanical world in indigo blue / along Eleventh Avenue at three seventeen in the afternoon / on a Monday in November // reflecting the state of the world’s imagination / - / across the bridge of a new lunar cycle /// a gift; a renewal, a view of this crystalline time-shifting phase of the earth.
.
Or Metropolitan Lumber & Hardware, 617 11th Avenue.
Monday, November 16, 2020 - An electric current (that pulsates here). by Jordan Myers
Even when the city is sleeping and going to bed
early there’s a current, an electric current that
pulsates here. You don’t have to look for it.
It’s here all the same. You can go days, weeks
even without noticing it. But still, it’s here.
It’s easy to let the electric current that pulsates
here drive you mad. It happens all the time.
This is why it’s not possible to stay here forever,
or even for too long. And by stay here I don’t
mean live here. One can live here forever but if
he does he has to get away at least for a while.
Or else he will lose his mind. And his heart will
weaken.The city can lift weakened hearts but it
cannot restore them. It cannot repair them.
This city does not have what a tree in the middle
of a forest way out in the distant woods thousands
upon thousands of miles away has: quietude,
simplicity. One can go without quietude and
simplicity for a long while. Some longer than
others. But no one can go without quietude
and simplicity forever. There are places in
Brooklyn and Queens and Staten Island
and the Bronx where the population is not
as dense as it is in Manhattan. Brooklyn has
Prospect Park and Queens has Flushing
Meadows Corona Park and the Bronx has
Pelham Bay Park and Staten Island has
Freshkills Park and Manhattan of course
has Central Park, but each of these parks ––––
they’re stand-ins. They get the job done
when in a jam. These parks have trees
and water and leaves and places to sit
and watch the sunset and to look up
into the sky. Even so these parks are short-term
solutions. This doesn’t mean they lack value.
They have value. These parks have a great deal
of value. But quietude and simplicity, these
parks do not have. They’re too close to the engine
that is this city. They’re too close to the electric
current that pulsates here. They’re too close.
If you want to live here forever you’ve got to go
away from here for a while and come back.
Otherwise what happens? The electric current
that pulsates here will take you too far away
from yourself. Be careful. It can take you too far
away from yourself. And it can happen in an instant
and you might not even notice it. Years and years
could pass before you notice it. There’s a thin line
–––– it’s a fine line between having the electric current
that pulsates here lift you up and inspire you and give
you energy and faith versus having that same electric current
that pulsates here take everything away from you all at once.
Mindfulness helps. Staying alert and aware. Keeping one’s
senses steady, acute, and balanced. Living with a heart
that’s capable of changing, growing, adapting –––– a heart
that’s cued up and able to give and receive loving energy.
The loving energy filters the electric current that pulsates here.
By filter I mean the heart is able to transmute the electric current
that pulsates here into more and more loving and healing energy.
But this takes work. It doesn’t happen without intention.
And by filter I also mean that this loving energy makes sure
that when the body and the mind and the heart have had enough
of the electric current that pulsates here, one is able to leave,
and regroup for however long it takes. A few days, a week, a month,
years even. & then when the timing is right: return, come back –––
Come back, refreshed & again to the electric current that pulsates here.
Sunday, November 15, 2020 - Postcards from New York: Happy New Moon in Scorpio. by Jordan Myers
Standing outside of Happy Family, 11/14/20. The next morning I check my e-mail and have a note from Rebecca; she’s sending over a few Moonlight Sonatas for Issue No. 8, and wishing me a happy New Moon in Scorpio. I had no idea, but it makes sense: one phase of life is ending and another one is beginning. Every step feels cathartic. With each breath, layers and layers of the old are shed. Preparing Issue No. 8 - 2020; this time for real. Even if all year it’s felt impossible to bring this one together, the moon is new. The time is now. Let us end the year in a sprint of new energies and beauty.
Saturday, November 14, 2020 - Nostalgia lives here: having a Matt Kearney “Nothing Left to Lose” (2006) kind of evening. by Jordan Myers
Having a Matt Kearny Nothing Left to Lose (2006) kind of evening. Nostalgia filled . . . slow and steady. I hadn’t heard of Kearney until 2009, when a friend from law school told me about the single from the album, “Nothing Left to Lose.” It was around this time of year, Halloween ‘09, if I remember it right. Kearney’s singing voice is solid. It gets him through most of the songs without issue. Then, maybe once during every two or three tracks, he’ll move into the talking-rap that’s reminiscent of Linkin Park’s Mike Shinoda. And I’m taken right back!
There’s something about this span of the year –––– past Halloween but not quite having reached Thanksgiving; the holidays, the festivities, the lights. The weather cools and it’s apparent that something major awaits on the horizon. That’s one thing that’s great about “Nothing Left to Lose,” how the song captures that feeling: “Something's in the air tonight / The sky's alive with a burning light / You can mark my words something's about to break,” Kearney sings.
The close of this year’s already different. Slower, more subdued. No crowds and more quiet-time and solitude. Dinner was Happy Family on Tenth Avenue, takeout Chinese: sesame shrimp, an egg roll, brown rice, followed by a pot of Sleepytime tea.
I’m only halfway through Nothing Left to Lose. I’ve never listened to the full album before. There’s a gem of a track a little over halfway through, ten of fifteen, “All I Need.” I’ve listened to the song three times now. These are the first two lines: “Here it comes it's all blowing in tonight / I woke up this morning to a blood red sky,” Kearney sings. My heart.
Earlier I read that “All I Need” was featured in Grey’s Anatomy. I remember watching that show a few times in college. In certain circles it was all the rage. I remember not quite getting it. College is funny in that way. Feeling grown and mature, though not really knowing how much more there’s still left to learn and understand, about one’s self, and about the world.
Before stepping into Happy Family, I took a few photographs of Midtown, from West Forty-second Street. Those photographs appear below. Enjoy. Be safe. Be well.
Friday, November 13, 2020 - City facades - Park Slope: Fourth Avenue and Fifth Street. by Jordan Myers
The morning of the New York Marathon: November 4, 2018.
Thursday, November 12, 2020 - As Governor Cuomo sends New Yorkers to bed early, Anthony Fauci insists: we shall not rest. by Jordan Myers
This is what you do when cases start spiking; per the Governor’s orders: no bars, restaurants or gyms past 10:00pm.
Two saving graces haven’t arrived just yet, but they’re close: (1) a vaccine; and (2) a new president and vice president come January 20th, 2021.
Even if there are doubts as to whether Governor Cuomo should be sending New Yorkers to bed early, this much remains clear: Anthony Fauci is insisting, we shall not rest:
"Ever since it became clear a few days ago that we have a really quite effective vaccine getting ready to deploy, [the message] is rather than 'Hey don't worry you're OK,' it's 'Don't stop shooting, the cavalry is coming but don't put your weapons down, you better keep fighting because they're not here yet,' " Fauci said.
The Hill
Peter Sullivan
“Fauci: Coronavirus won't be a pandemic
for 'a lot longer' thanks to vaccines”
November 12th, 2020
Wednesday, November 11, 2020 - Veterans Day, glazed with rain. by Jordan Myers
A rainy Veterans Day in New York. The sunny skies and balmy weather, like a worldwide tour, have packed up and left town –––– and we’re left with this: not heavy sheets of rain rushing downwards from the sky, but a steady and quiet pitter-patter of rain drops.
This evening it feels like the city is on a one year rain delay. Not just the rain falling, but also the emptiness of Midtown Manhattan, which gets exaggerated each time the clouds roll in. What will these streets feel like come winter?
Tuesday, November 10, 2020 - City facades: Twenty-ninth Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenue. by Jordan Myers
This is turning out to be the week of city facades. After hosting the voices and work of Elizabeth Lerman, Kate Alsbury, Jade Brown, Rebecca Nison, Kate Gina, Rahil Najafabadi, and Kellie Coppi last month; and then adjusting to these new, clear, and calming energies after the election, I’m taking a bit more time to breathe this week, and writing less for these Dailies.
We’ll be hosting a number of new voices over the remaining weeks in November, along with new pieces by at least a few of the authors mentioned above.
This evening’s city facade, along with the last two days worth of photos, were shot in and around the west side of Manhattan on Sunday, the day after the election results were called.
Following the jubilation and joy that filled the city for almost all of Saturday, I’ll always remember the next day as a twenty-four hour interlude of euphoria: the sky: crystal clear blue, the temperature: an airy high sixties to mid-seventies ––– without a trace of humidity, and the city: sleeping in and resting peacefully with the promise of new leaders taking hold of United States’ Executive Branch; a new President and Vice President in Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, waiting in the wings. Or, said otherwise: a new day, and a new dawn.
Saturday, November 7, 2020 - President Joseph R. Biden & Vice President Kamala D. Harris. by Jordan Myers
I took this photo about an hour before the election results were called. The city was still quiet. This morning I tried but I could not remember what a Saturday afternoon felt like before this past March. For a while I held an image in my mind: meeting someone two autumns ago at Fiftieth Street and Sixth Avenue.
I tried to remember all of the people going on about their lives in the background who were a part of of the scene. I didn’t know that I was taking them for granted. I didn’t know they could be gone; that years later, I’d forget what it was like to have them there.
This pandemic has taken so much away from our city.
With an exacting clarity I remember taking the Staten Island Ferry on the afternoon after the 2016 election, sunk, defeated, and wondering how we’d make it through the next four years. Just as clearly, I remember looking over and up at the Statue of Liberty and right away thinking of all that this country has already endured.
A feeling of comfort and grace overcame me. I didn’t have today in mind, but something like it. I couldn’t trace all that would have to happen in order to make today possible, but I thought it might happen; that we’d all be able to breathe again.
Like millions, today I’ve cried tears of reflection, joy, release, surrender and gratitude. There’s more work and living to do of course. But at least we have a chance. At least we have a chance.
Congratulations President Joseph Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris. And thank you for your work, your faith, and your courage.
Friday, November 6, 2020. by Jordan Myers
In between dreams, a flare, a whisper
of sound ––– the voice from beyond
that strikes like a match. Sweltering city,
the heat of November, with glass facades
covered by boards, wood left without paint,
braced for bricks, braced for battle, braced
for cries of fraud, braced for fears of change.
This must have been more than four years:
making America great again was a bust again.
Though something has to happen now.
The curtains closing, the light coming back on
and the audience, who are one with the actors,
should be getting up from their seats and drifting
toward the exit by now. Almost seventy million
demanding, begging, waving their flags ––––
needing an encore. Almost seventy-five million
with quiet tears of reflection, stepping out
into the streets at dusk, having an evening
or two, or three months, to rejoice.
Then emboldened, wiser, and having seen
and having felt –––––– and wanting to heal
these quintessential American wounds; rising
the next morning: and going back, to work.
Wednesday, November 4, 2020. by Jordan Myers
10:12am awaiting / searching for final results in: Wisconsin, Georgia, North Carolina, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Nevada.
From last night:
Maine (3) - Biden (223)
Maine (1) - Trump (213);
Hawaii (4) - Biden (227);
From today:
Wisconsin (10) - Biden (237);
Michigan (16) - Biden (253);
________________________
Last night I tracked MSNBC’s Decision 2020’s coverage of the election; tuning in at around 7:00pm and staying up until a half hour after 2:00am; spending an evening with Rachel Madow, Joy Reid, and Nicole Wallace. It should not be overlooked: Steve Kornacki did work at the big board. In particular, his ability to interpret the votes as they were coming in county-by-county and then comparing those results to the 2016 Clinton / Trump race was helpful, as the numbers offered a sense of ground that Biden had made up from 2016, or ––– in the case of Miami-Dade County in Florida, had lost.
In order to skip past commercials, I had the blessing of watching the coverage about fifteen minutes behind from real time –––– hence, the call-times that are listed below are a few minutes behind when they were actually called live. While Brian Williams’ calls of projected outcomes had a way of generating small waves of suspense and excitement just before the screen shifted to a visual of what looked like Rockefeller Plaza –––– one half blue, and the other half read, as for the actual results, there were no surprises. Often the projections amounted to “Too Early to Call,” and “Too close to call.”
And with the exception of the Nebraska’s second congressional, the only electoral college vote that Biden, as of last night, was able to flip from Trump, the states that had voted Republican in 2016 were voting red again in 2020. But this is part of what made the night interesting: North Carolina, Georgia, Arizona, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania are all missing from this list below; as not one of those states were projected by MSNBC last night.
The highlight for me was watching Joe Biden deliver remarks from Wilmington, Delaware; which I started watching at 1:02am and transcribed below. In my mind, he said everything that he needed to say, and he said it with just enough confidence and calm.
The President spoke about an hour later; and by then, I had nodded off and slipped into and out of sleep at least once or twice. It was a blessing to still be fifteen minutes behind MSNB’s coverage. As when Trump approached the podium of the East Wing, I was quite lucky: pressing the “15sec > forward” button frequently. Everything he said was nonsense at best, though much closer to frightening and dangerous ––– more than hinting at an intent to incite civil discourse and violence on account of an inability for state governments to count hundreds of thousands of votes within three to five hours. And I was glad to turn off the last remaining light in my apartment, close my laptop, and actively decide to go to bed without hearing him speak; instead, having Vice President Biden’s remarks making a deeper impression in my heart and mind:
“And folks, you heard me say it before: every time I’d walk out of my grandpa’s house up in Scranton he’d yell, ‘Joey, keep the faith.’ And then my grandma, she would be laughing and she would always say, ‘No, Joey, spread it.’
Keep the faith guys, we’re going to win this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Your patience is great.”
Tuesday, November 3, 2020. by Jordan Myers
I tracked MSNBC’s Decision 2020’s coverage of the election; tuning in at around 7:00pm and staying up until a half hour after 2:00am; spending an evening with Rachel Madow, Joy Reid, and Nicole Wallace. It should not be overlooked: Steve Kornacki did work at the big board. In particular, his ability to interpret the votes as they were coming in county-by-county and then comparing those results to the 2016 Clinton / Trump race was helpful, as the numbers offered a sense of ground that Biden had made up from 2016, or ––– in the case of Miami-Dade County in Florida, had lost.
In order to skip past commercials, I had the blessing of watching the coverage about fifteen minutes behind from real time –––– hence, the call-times that are listed below are a few minutes behind when they were actually called live. While Brian Williams’ calls of projected outcomes had a way of generating small waves of suspense and excitement just before the screen shifted to a visual of what looked like Rockefeller Plaza –––– one half blue, and the other half red, as for the actual results, there were no surprises. Often the projections amounted to “Too Early to Call,” and “Too close to call.”
And with the exception of the Nebraska’s second congressional, the only electoral college vote that Biden, as of last night, was able to flip from Trump, the states that had voted Republican in 2016 were voting red again in 2020. But this is part of what made the night interesting: North Carolina, Georgia, Arizona, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania are all missing from this list below; as not one of those states were projected by MSNBC last night.
The highlight for me was watching Joe Biden deliver remarks from Wilmington, Delaware; which I started watching at 1:02am and transcribed below. In my mind, he said everything that he needed to say, and he said it with just enough confidence and calm.
The President spoke about an hour later; and by then, I had nodded off and slipped into and out of sleep at least once or twice. It was a blessing to still be fifteen minutes behind MSNB’s coverage. As when Trump approached the podium of the East Wing, I was quite lucky: pressing the “15sec > forward” button frequently. Everything he said was nonsense, though much closer to frightening and dangerous ––– more than hinting at an intent to incite civil discourse and violence on account of an inability for state governments to count hundreds of thousands of votes within three to five hours And I was glad to turn off the last remaining light in my apartment, close my laptop, and actively decide to go to bed without hearing him speak; instead, having Vice President Biden’s remarks making a deeper impression in my heart and mind:
“And folks, you heard me say it before: every time I’d walk out of my grandpa’s house up in Scranton he’d yell, ‘Joey, keep the faith.’ And then my grandma, she would be laughing and she would always say, ‘No, Joey, spread it.’
Keep the faith guys, we’re going to win this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Your patience is great.”
7:07pm - Indiana (11): - Donald J. Trump (11);
7:19pm - Vermont (3): - Joseph R. Biden (3);
7:44pm - Kentucky (8): - Donald J. Trump (19);
8:00pm - New Jersey (14): - Joseph R. Biden (17);
8:00pm - Massachusetts (11): - Joseph R. Biden (28);
8:00pm - Maryland (10): - Joseph R. Biden (38);
8:00pm - Oklahoma (7): - Donald J. Trump (26);
8:00pm - Delaware (3): - Joseph R. Biden (41);
8:00pm - District of Columbia (3): - Joseph R. Biden (44);
8:15pm - Tennessee (11): - Donald J. Trump (37)
8:23pm - West Virginia (5): - Donald J. Trump (42);
8:23pm - Connecticut (7): - Joseph R. Biden (51);
8:51pm - Arkansas (6): - Donald J. Trump (48);
9:01pm - New York (29): - Joseph R. Biden (80);
9:10pm - South Dakota (3): - Donald J. Trump (51);
9:20pm - Colorado (9): - Joseph R. Biden (89);
9:24pm - North Dakota (3): - Donald J. Trump (54);
9:30pm - Alabama (9): - Donald J. Trump (63);
9:33pm - South Carolina (9): - Donald J. Trump (72);
10:10pm - New Mexico (5): - Joseph R. Biden (94);
10:21pm - Louisiana (8): - Donald J. Trump (80)
10:21pm - Kansas (6): - Donald J. Trump (86);
10:23pm - New Hampshire (4): - Joseph R. Biden (98);
10:40pm - Utah (6): - Donald J. Trump (92);
10:45pm - Missouri (10): - Donald J. Trump (102);
10:51pm - Illinois (20): - Joseph R. Biden - (118);
10:56pm - Nebraska (west) (5 split electoral votes) - Donald J. Trump (105);
11:00pm - Mississippi (6) - Donald J. Trump (111);
11:00pm - Wyoming (3) - Donald J. Trump (114);
11:07pm - California (55) - Joseph R. Biden (173);
11:10pm - Oregon (7) - Joseph R. Biden (180);
11:11pm - Washington (12) - Joseph R. Biden (192);
12:05am - Ohio (18) - Donald J. Trump (132);
12:11am - Idaho (4) - Donald J. Trump (136);
12:12am - Virginia (13) - Joseph R. Biden - (205);
12:50am - Florida (29) - Donald J. Trump - (165);
______________________________
1:02am
Joe Biden - A Message from Delaware:
Hello to Delaware!
Hello! Hello! Hello!
Good evening:
Your patience is commendable. We knew this was going to go long, but who knew we were going to go maybe into tomorrow morning, and maybe into longer, but look: we feel good about where we are. We really do.
I am here to tell you tonight, we believe w’re on track to win this election. We knew, because of the unprecedented early vote and the mail-in vote, that it was going to take a while. And we’re going to have to be patient until the hard work of tallying votes is finished. And it ain’t over until every vote is counted; and until every ballot is counted.
But we’re feeling good. We’re feeling good about where we are. One of the networks has already suggested that we’ve won Arizona, and we’re confident about Arizona ––– that’s a turn-around. It was also just called for us winning Minnesota. And we’re still in the game in Georgia; although that’s not what we expected.
We’re feeling really good about Wisconsin and Michigan. And by the way, it’s going to take time to count the votes, but we’re going to win Pennsylvania. I’ve been talking to folks in Philly, Allegheny County, and Scranton, and they’re really encouraged by the turnout and what they’ve seen.
Look, we can know the results by as early as tomorrow morning, but it may take a little longer. As I’ve said all along, it’s not my place or Donald Trump’s place to declare who has won this election –––– that’s the decision of the American people. But I’m optimistic about this outcome. And I want to thank every one of you who came out and voted during this election.
And by the way, Chris Coons, the Democrat, congratulations here in Delaware. Hey, John! You’re the gov! The whole team, man; you’ve done a great job. I’m grateful to the poll-workers, to our volunteers, to our canvassers, everyone who participated in this democratic process. And I’m grateful to all of my supporters –––– here in Delaware and across the nation. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
And folks, you heard me say it before: every time I’d walk out of my grandpa’s house up in Scranton he’d yell, “Joey, keep the faith.” And then my grandma, she would be laughing and she would always say, “No, Joey, spread it.”
Keep the faith guys, we’re going to win this. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Your patience is great.
______________________________
1:20am - Iowa (6) - Donald J. Trump - (171);
1:35am - Texas (38) - Donald J. Trump (209);
1:38am - Montana (3) - Donald J. Trump (212);
1:45am - Rhode Island (4) - Joseph R. Biden (209);
1:50am - Nebraska’s Second Congressional District (Omaha 1) - Joseph R. Biden (210);
2:02am - Minnesota (10) - Joseph R. Biden (220);
Monday, November 2, 2020 - As quiet as it’s kept. by Jordan Myers
Nearly one hundred million votes for this year’s presidential election have already been cast. Only a select few have a sense of how those votes are shaking out, and to which candidate they’re leaning: the incumbent, or the former vice president. This evening, we can’t know how many votes will be cast tomorrow. Though in less than twenty-four hours, we’ll have more than a few answers. And from those answers; ideally, as few new questions as possible.
Sunday, November 1, 2020 - “All hands up, salute the Empire State,” - Guster (2006). by Jordan Myers
As for Manhattan, from Two hundred and twenty-fifth Street down to Battery Park, there are only a few new places left to see. Nearly every street I’ve walked or biked across, each avenue I’ve witnessed at least once from the ground level. Yet still an entire city remains to be explored –––– not by sight, but by possibility; angles and projections; voices and sounds; memories and images. Nothing in New York ever happens twice. There is no same-old same-old. This is the paradox: it doesn’t matter how many times one walks these streets; they cannot be seen in their entirety. As each passing moment, they’ve changed. “All hands up, salute the Empire State.”
Saturday, October 31, 2020 - “Her Cherry Colored Lips” by Jade Brown
HER CHERRY COLORED LIPS
“Can you stand?” Her crow’s feet expanded. The bath water had cooled down enough to stutter her into remembrance. Her breath was keeping tabs on the time that laid idle around her. Perhaps she was floating.
“Not yet,” she now hummed when she spoke. I liked to see the vibrations rummage through her diaphragm. Yes, please keep her moving.
The towel has now smothered itself for her comfort. I pull it from under her bum to wring out over the tiny sink. The water festers about the room, telling us both to cry. I look over and her stare still revokes a scenery. The vent above the tub tries to out sing her hums, but instead falls victim to the perseverance of death. My throat clenches. I settle the nausea with a story, propping myself onto the rim.
“Toy was telling me,” I swallowed melancholy, pushing a grin. “Toy was telling me how Gail’s family has a game room in their basement. They invited me over sometime to play Street Fighter.”
She winces. Not from the invite but powerlessness. “That’s so nice.”
“I’m excited. Toy told me that Gail is pretty good at Street Fighter, but I don’t think she’s better than me.”
“No one is better than you, sweetie,” her eyelids fold over. “Can you get the back of my neck?”
I lift the pixie cut wig just enough to drench her nape. She spares me some room, or what she convinces herself is sufficient. She was only in her fifties, but the way her body held its breath made her appear twenty years older. Bath water is too translucent. I’ve never seen my mother naked before this day, and somehow I knew, it would probably be the last time I’d ever see her at all.
Perpendicular the boisterous vent, was a compact window. It soothed a warm cobalt air inside, and reminded me that dinner time was approaching. I tried to picture the scant pantry, but maybe I didn’t want to. My recollection could only come up with black beans, kidney beans and whole kernel corn. For the past few weeks that was all my buds could get a hold of. Toy had taken the last stack of string cheese to his overnight shift.
Greedy.
“We might have some beans in there if you want that for dinner,” I repositioned myself to my knees, resting my elbows beside her. Steadily to not strike her.
“Do we have franks? Can you make franks and beans? I like Nathan’s.”
“We might have the chicken kind. Nathan’s is too much,” I really don’t even think we have the chicken kind anymore.
“I want Nathan’s. Can you take the card and go to the shop to get some?”
There was no money on that card. Probably like $3.14, which can only get two bags of chips, one Nutty Bar and four ice cream sandwiches.
“Oh! I think we got some ham in there. How about one of my famous ham sandwiches?”
Her fingers, now rippled and thin, massaged the surface of the water. She slapped it gently, causing a catapulted drop to dab my forearm. That was a yes. I hesitated for a second, realizing the slick leathery makeup of the cold-cut may be too difficult for her to swallow. There was also a pack of shrimp ramen in there, if I pour the flavoring into a cup of a hot water, it’ll make a descent soup.
It’s settled.
“Lila,” hummmmm. “Did you start your homework?”
I looked at my backpack leaning up at the end of the corridor. It was opened. Not because I had started, but the moment I got home I found her in a stew of her own feces.
“Lila!” She smiled when she called my name then. “You’re home!”
I ripped out three sheets of looseleaf from my Rugrats binder and used them to shield the mess. I don’t know whose sight I was trying to redirect, mine or hers. Toy was gone. He’s been leaving earlier and earlier each day. Spending all his time off with Gail. When I first stumbled in, my mother shouted out Antoine with grief and rage. For Toy’s sake, I wish I were him.
“I’ll get to it after dinner,” also avoiding fractions. “Can you stand now?”
Her vision rose. I could see her strolling to a nearby playground. Running her hand across the rubber swing to make sure it wasn’t hot enough to peel skin. Looking down at the auburn mulch, testing to see the best time to fall into it knee first. Listening for the sounds of the sprinkler. Instead, eloping to a Latina selling ices from a broken eggshell cart. My mom always loved cherry, the same natural color of her lips. The topping she’s left on my life. She had no money, but she stands to watch others who do. She smiles while reclining deeper into her own tears.
She smiles at me, “I’m so sorry, Lila.”
I remove the brittle wig from her scalp. Scarce brown puffs grow in patches. I kiss the the edge of her forehead, closer to her nasal bridge. My arms create a wreath around her head, allowing her face to be the celebrated centerpiece. A stream diverges from her eyes to my white button down. I release her.
Hummmmm.
She gifts me the scene of a playground.
I try my best to drown it out.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Jade Brown is a fiction writer and poet based in New York City. Her work focuses on liberating women who are shoved in dehumanizing categories, with emphasis on women of color. Jade's heavy use of allegories in her writing brings light to social construct, racial dynamic, and feminine opulence.
Friday, October 30, 2020 - Postcards from New York: West Thirty-fifth Street. by Jordan Myers
Caught Midtown at dusk. Was walking along West 35th Street when I looked south and saw this sea of green, “Car 60.” The Midtown Manhattan crowds are long gone; though there’s something different that’s taken their place: waves of life. Every few moments one or two people, or a group of people will walk by; just enough life to show that it’s still a reasonable thing to do: to live in New York, to work in Manhattan. A few of the people who passed by were on their cell phone, business calls; snippets of conversations: e-mails to be sent on Monday; plans for when to show an apartment over the weekend; reflections on presentations given earlier this week: hit or miss? Yay or nay? Sources say a long and dark winter awaits. Sunday’s a twenty-five hour day. On account of the cold, it’s growing less reasonable to sit down and have a meal outside. Even so, I’m settling in; adjusting, and growing more comfortable with this new pace of life.
A previous version of this postcard mistakenly referenced Sunday, November 1, 2020 as a twenty-three hour day, rather than its actual duration: twenty-five hours. I mixed up Daylight Saving Times’ ending and beginning. As of this writing, I’m quite glad to have that hour back from this spring.