Writing and Wanderlust

Wearing impractical shoes to dinner, clutching onto him as we walked. Something he said made me laugh so hard I almost fell over. Simple, joyous evening.

I love the way he looks when he’s sleeping.

The color of the sky at sunset in Brooklyn Heights. It was a brilliant gold and orange and rose color, the way it only gets when it’s been cloudy most of the day. I saw it as I emerged from the subway and ran as fast as my heels would take me to the promenade. But by the time I got there, in less than 10 minutes, there was only a sliver of color left at the horizon. Nothing gold can stay.

Walking down Madison at dusk, music on, getting lost in the faces and bustle of the city. I’ll miss that.