Would You Be Mine?

October 24, 2010 § Leave a comment

The New New Yorker

by Courtney Hilden

I hadn’t meant to be late.  But I didn’t sleep well the night before, and then I didn’t get up as early as I wanted.  And then, yes, I forgot which street it was on.  And the thing about churches in New York is that you don’t really see them until you’re on top of them.  I was only eight minutes late, but I feel bad about walking in late.  It would be just my luck to run right into a priceless candle holder and knock it over, interrupting the first reading with a giant, hollow boom. 

So I wandered the neighborhood instead.  I like this neighborhood, I like that so many of the buildings are older.  Some look like they’ve been well-cared for, but even the ones that aren’t look beautiful to me, like they’re gently falling apart, like they’ll be gone in a decade.  I’ve been advised not to look up, because it makes me look like a tourist, but I find it’s one of the few ways to really appreciate these buildings. 

I began singing in my mind “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…” thinking about how I would like to live in one of these buildings, thinking about how nice the local school looks (decorated for Halloween with a large raven poster), thinking I could easily make this home, could easily wake up here one day a true New Yorker and not a tourist who looks up.  “Would you be mine?” I wonder.  “Would you be mine?”

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