city quilt

by willeya

we start by looking for a stroller. i still can’t believe we forgot our stroller. but we don’t find one so we carry him six miles through NEW YORK.  Manhattan, to be exact.

we walk from the bay, inland.  the further inside, the thicker it gets.  the people here are more diverse – more interesting – than chicago.  we pass a group of asians claiming their inner zen next to the sexy woman.

it is christmastime so we go to macy’s first. on our way we become ants underneath the buildings and billboards.  i am offered so many things at once that i want nothing at all.  i am happy just to watch the city quilt lay out for miles.

macy’s is atticus’ favorite.  “balllll-a? ballll-a?” he says to ev-er-y ball he sees.  we walk the half mile through the store to the other side to see the famous christmas windows.  the scenes are edward scissor hands meets santa clause.  a happy tim burton movie.  twisted. magical. brilliant.

pics from stylegination.blogspot. mine stunk.

my tiramasu with caramel and peanuts is 5.98 and worth every red cent.  we share bites and eat mostly in silence, each in our own world of food. an occasional “this is so good” connects our islands.

hey where's mine?!

then we walk walk walk. atticus is so tired by now.  he falls asleep on his new best buddy mark.  ben and i take the chance to walk hand in hand.  our last stop is rockefeller center.  the skaters below us look just like in the movies except they are worse – more wobbly.  somehow it makes it all cuter.  large nutcracker statues surround us and then of course there’s the tree.  the sound of family and friendship fills the air and we gladly add our noise.

on the way home hello kitty stands next to ben at a stop light.  she seems to not realize that her head extends far beyond her body and her ears almost touch him.  the way she’s standing, i wonder if she knows she’s a cat at all. New York tickles me red pink.

a couple blocks from our car is neighborhood.  it is calmer and quieter here.  a round man in a black suit sits on steps playing a lively flute.  his yarmulke tells me a bit of his story but his flute tells me more.  he’s really good, ben says, and i feel privileged to be the four out of 8.2 million in this city to hear.  at the end of his song he hollers something very jewish sounding and i swear that God’s WHOLE creation is here in New York.  it is a quilt, this city.  no block is the same.

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