It is in the mornings mostly when I am reminded of the cruelty of New York real estate. That is when I usually see her crossing fifth street and after all these years of never having seen her and never having talked to her and never knowing what had happened in her life, I still like the way she crosses a street. I find myself lingering to catch a glimpse now and remembering then. We smile. I wave. We never talk and never touch. It seems impossible. I’d like to kill the asshole who showed her that apartment.
