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New York, Act 3, Scene 6

March 28, 2013

The canopy of night seems far overhead as we walk down 42nd Street to Broadway’s Times Square. After the dim light of the theatre, the lights of the city dazzle me. This is New York City in 2013, a cold winter night with crowds hurrying with us and past us, taxi’s honking, lights flickering, keeping the  thin veil of night far above.

“Look mom. Across the street.”  Daughter Beth nudges my other arm as I hold onto John firmly. I see a huge TV screen with a myriad of people, waving. We walk into the hidden camera’s scope. “Wave mom!” she exclaims, and I see myself foolishly waving back at me. I feel weird, but somehow connected to this waving horde of humanity.

Our destination is Thalia’s on 50th and 8th for supper. Thalia’s is glitzy and crowded. Somehow I am not hungry. I have feasted on the City, and I am exhausted by the impressions circling my mind. I remember drinking wine and watching a hefty couple across from us consuming large quanties of shrimp, salad, steak, and pasta. They were sharing a dessert when we are ready to leave.

A can takes us back to the Warwick. We will fly home to California tomorrow, I think  as the shades of sleep close my eyes and turn off my brain.

To be contid.


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