October 2007. I've been back in the city for awhile now, so this one is less about my surroundings and more about the people in them. Of course, that's not the whole story. But it's close enough.
Read on for a taste of this issue.
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The rain this morning was almost biblical. A torrent after unsettling dreams, it woke the cat and soaked through my boots before I reached the train. I thought maybe the world was ending -- the gods shaking thunderous fists, unleashing their fury on the deserted streets of Brooklyn. In such a downpour I would have believed anything. At work we shook ourselves off, dragged open the gate, made to make the coffee. You came in three hours late, talking of floods on the bridges and how long it took you to ride into the city. Today, you said, you wouldn’t go to the lab -- you’d stay and work here. As if you knew my dreams had been about you. As if you could tell that this is what happens, that they stood for another piece of you I’ve just let go, and you thought maybe that wouldn’t do just yet.