In response to my sister’s blog, On the Road.
I scurry out of my 23rd floor apartment ten minutes late. The unseasonably warm breeze leads me into the subway and lingers to dry the remaining ice from the street corners. I wait impatiently, 6 people deep. The doors open and I beeline all the way to the back, where I know I will find room for me and my kindle. A smartly dressed woman balances on red heels, guarding her stroller. She sees a former co-worker and my ears are filled with stories of the old days at Conde Nast. We stop 5 times, and during each I shift as one more commuter expertly places themselves into our jig saw puzzle. Released, the wind still at my back, I follow the spring evening wear dancing across the Madison Ave windows toward my office….
