Old New York

Another Halloween.

Finished a lunch of bread, cheese, smoked fish and onions. (That makes me feel like a writer from Cowley's NY, although there's no reason why it should!)

On a lunch break and waiting for those keys to be made... And plagued by the thought, lately, that all of this is memory-- that the world is passing-- that "my New York" is passing. It's the first time I've ever felt ageing-- that it's the people younger than I who own the world. The thought makes me sad and sick. And more than anything, scared.