A Letter to New York City

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

If New York City was an animate being, what would it feel?

Submitted: June 09, 2018

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Submitted: June 09, 2018






Good afternoon, New York City - for not the first, neither the last time. I could swear, if you were granted the ability to feel, to think and to recall - you would feel some sort of way about the speedy crowd chasing streetlights, as their foreheads almost clash. And what if you did? What if every time the green light would hit, you were overwhelmed with exhaustion and lethargy? Is it a humane desire to getaway, one that each and every single member of the crowd pursues?


I would guess that at times, you would feel bitterness. That must be the curse of every megapolis. How does it feel, mercilessly having to stomp on the plastic illusions of kids with bubblegum minds, that once were the blissful dreamers? How does it feel to watch their horizons narrow down? In drastic contrast, though, you would feel honor and pride for those few who did not give in,pleasantly surprised by their devoted resistance. Despite their trembling fear, these few have navigated through the whole labyrinth like brave warriors, uncovering your secret pathways. You would gracefully reward them with a place at the very heart of you. They now pursue a ticket to all the further roller coasters of life, in the direction of their desire. No wonder some say - if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.


But I know that you can’t quit your irreplaceable duty, as the relieved crowd rushes into cars and train wagons, in anticipation of settling in front of fireplaces and big screens. You have your own show to put on every night - just as the evening falls, the sky gradually turns black and the window lights of skyscrapers begin to play Tetris. And what a prodigious show it is! Millions of spectators would cross to the other half of the globe, for even a distorted glimpse from the back row. With quarter-sized eyes, they contemplate scenarios which they previously only encountered on playbills in the shape of glittered postcards.


Dear New York City, have you ever felt an urge to mute the roaring engines and devoicing honking, as if you were using a remote control? To silence every note and to shut down every light? To watch your world go raw and blank for a few seconds? All so you can finally rest your tired lungs, indulge in nature’s fine oxygen, as the sky paints itself with constellations, which can easily be seen by the naked eye. Only you have nowhere to hide when the dawn breaks. Your duty is a difficult one, yet you have to keep the same pace. You know that all across the globe, someone is listening to your pulse setting the tone, before they try to come up with a harmonic melody.



For that, dear New York City, we are endlessly grateful.





a New Yorker



© Copyright 2019 Alexandra Layne. All rights reserved.

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