Full of cakes
Dear Diary:
I left the office in Midtown after work on a Monday night. I was back from a trip that morning and headed straight to the office, so I still had my bag with me.
I went to the corner to catch a taxi. Luckily, one was approaching as soon as I got there.
Reaching for the door to open while packing my things, I noticed a large pizza box on the back seat.
“There’s a pizza box here,” I tell the driver.
“Oh, give that to me,” he said. “The woman who just went out must have left it.”
I threw my stuff back and handed him the box through the window.
When I got into the back of the taxi, he opened the box and tilted it toward the plastic bulkhead so I could see.
“Here’s a full cake from Serafina!” he exclaimed. “Want to take it apart?”
I politely declined.
“OK, your choice,” he said. “But do you mind if I play some light jazz?”
– Samantha Tobin
Metropolis is quiet
Dear Diary:
The city is quiet now
The husky voices of the day are quiet
A car is speeding on the highway
The last reveler returns home
This magical time is before dawn
The click of a shoe on the sidewalk
A sound is rarely heard and only then
Market stalls pack and put away
Coffee brewed at Starbucks all night
Please put the cappuccino in a real cup
A window seat to watch
Citizens’ vanguard
The subway web is starting to tingle now
Outsiders are coming
The key holders open their shops
When the eastern sky shows red-tinted clouds
People see movement behind the storefront
Prepare for the coming flood
The city wakes up, stretches and yawns
Soon the train will bring you love
There’s still time to breathe fresher air
Walking slowly on empty sidewalks
And fascinated by this new side
Of the magical city by the sea.
– Ted Bishop
Mona Lisa at Met
Dear Diary:
It was a cold February day in 1963. I am 10 years old and my sister is 6 years old. We and my dad lined up in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see “Mona Lisa”. It was displayed there. My father was overjoyed at this wonderful opportunity.
“You’ll never forget this day,” he tells me excitedly in a Brooklyn accent while stroking my upper arm repeatedly. “You’ll never forget that we came to see ‘Mona Lisa.'”
Nearly 60 years later, I have no memory of “Mona Lisa,” but I do remember standing on Fifth Avenue in front of that magnificent building with my passionate and loving father.
– Donna Damico
Detain, lock
Dear Diary:
I was locking the coffee shop at 7. It was dark and freezing cold, and I felt a little uneasy as I pulled down the net and knelt down to lock the lock.
I haven’t worked there in a long time and am still learning about the area. Harry, a regular elderly person who lives across the street, talked to me that morning about what the Lower East Side was like when he moved in in the 1980s. He was worried about a young woman locked up. alone at night.
I laughed at his nervousness and put him on the road with his pumpkin bread at the time. However, now I’m a bit worried. It’s a very quiet neighborhood, without a lot of lights.
I straightened out of the door, turned toward the street, and caught a glimmer of light from the corner of my eye. I looked up at the third-story window across the street, where Harry seemed to have his eye on me.
He pointed his flashlight at me twice: Okay?
I nodded, smiled, and gave him a thumbs-up, feeling both silly and comforted. I have a feeling he’s going to do so most nights since. And he did.
– Jessica Hitt
To go
Dear Diary:
I was at a food court on Morris Park Avenue in the Bronx with two friends from Los Angeles. After getting our bread, we went to the checkout counter.
The man at the counter called my friend to order and put his sandwich in a brown paper bag.
My friend said he didn’t need the bag.
The man looks at him, maintains intense eye contact, takes the sandwich out of his bag, crumples it up, and throws it in the trash.
“My good food,” he said. “My law.”
Another friend of mine said she doesn’t need the bag either.
Again, the intense gaze followed by another bag crumpled up and thrown in the trash.
The man looked at me.
“You too?” he asks.
“Pockets are fine,” I said. He and I both started laughing. My friends participate cautiously.
“Welcome to New York,” I said as we headed out.
– Jessica Ward
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Illustration by Agnes Lee
