Magical thinking“It was New Year’s Day, a day I had longed to reach. We widows and widowers become adept at magical thinking. It’s easy, and necessary, to fool oneself that a step from one calendar to the next will dull the pain.” https://www.newyorker.com/culture/personal-history/on-losing-a-husband-and-almost-losing-a-wedding-ring/
We talk. We float. We talk a bit more. And we float a bit more. River and us and the city. Ferries are the stage.
Evening was for Russian. From here to Gorky House to Milee Droog.
Mirza Ghalib Street
As though dropped from the sky on to little people and their miniature world. Howrah Bridge. Ant like pedestrians crawling somewhere within the lower half of the girders. Going underneath it, and looking at it, floating on the river calls back memory of an illustration from Gulliver’s Travels. This city has a striking sense of … Continue reading
Waking up in this city. #places