The World from a Cab on a Friday Night in Mid-September

Zooming up First Avenue--60 mph--the windows all the way down and the wind whipping through the cab. Right around 28th Street, the air smelled just like the ocean and also of hot concrete, and we breathed it in and laughed and laughed.

Then underground, a slight dip, and the wind wooshing all around our heads. The taillights, fireflies of the city, dot-dot-dotting all up and down the avenue. A squeal of breaks and the taqueria on the corner--as the familiar sight of my block appeared, I closed my eyes and tried to remember it all.