My grandmothe was born in a small town. A village, really, even smaller than the one her mother was born in, and her mother’s mother. Generations of small-town folks, so adept at keeping secrets that even the gossip mill had to resort to making things up to stay in business.
They just built it, that towering building. In three months all the windows were lit up. An old man and an old woman, neighbors, a thin wall separating their living rooms, found solace in the synchronized glow of the lights from across the street. In their quiet moments, they listened to each other's evenings unfold, creating stories of secret rendezvous, clandestine adventures, and shared dreams. Their windows glowed through the night.
Two birds on the roof. Night. One nuzzles the other and chirps, "Look at the stars, friend. We may be small, but we're part of something big.”
”You may be part of something big,” says the other bird. “I’m just sitting on the roof.”
He arrived to New York from Uzbekistan over a year ago, the gold tooth in his mouth still reminding him of home. Bu those steel mountains touching the sky, they were like misplaced memories, something familiar but ungraspable. Geometry without answers, a puzzle left incomplete by the architects of a new life.
On the rooftop, I hesitated, my limbs reluctant against the edge. Vertigo whispered, the abyss below beckoned. "Why'd we even come up here?" I muttered, more to the void than to my companion.
She, equally uneasy, stared into the endless fall, a dance with gravity. "It's just rooftops and shadows," she said. But her words hung uncertain in the air.
"Aren't you a bit old for a nightlight?" She quirked an eyebrow and smiled.
"This is for... ambiance," he scoffed. Shadows giggled, playing hopscotch with the street lamps.
"Ambiance, right. Next time, bring a disco ball. It'll scare away the darkness with style."
Photowalking Brooklyn: Pics and Bits. At Night. Inspired by Lydia Davis (Part 1)
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Thanks for reading!
’Til next time
ak
Alex, this is so good! The entire piece
Fantastic photos and prose.