Stoop

The late summer weather was just warm and sweet enough to make me lay back against the warm brown brick and somehow think that three years was the blink of an eye and it was all so blissful and perfect. Bittersweet sadness grasped my throat in an intoxicating swell. Maybe the last beautiful day of the last beautiful year of my young life in the greatest city in the world. Ah, is there anything more poetic than self pity. My finger brushed down to pick up my hat with such a light touch I couldn’t be sure if i grabbed it but I didn’t care enough to look down and check.