5:40 am train.
Metro North south to Grand Central.
Need to buy a ticket.
I look down the long platform. Four minutes to scheduled arrival. Gotta go.
He’s 25 yards up.
His right foot is lame. His gait is slow. Handicapped.
I close in on him.
He’s in his late teens.
Baseball cap.
Backpack slung over his right shoulder.
He stops and turns to stare at the billboard.
His chest is rising up and down – giggling.
It’s an ad for a Broadway play based on the 2003 best selling novel “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.”
I remember the book. And smile.
I take one last look as I pass him. His head leans on his right shoulder as he takes in the poster, playing back chapter by chapter.
I buy my ticket. The train approaches and I look for him. He’s the last to get on, the conductor urges him in.
Metro North pulls into Grand Central. I exit onto 42nd street. Weather app says 73F: “Feels like 75F.” No. Feels like a bloody Rainforest.
Cab. Cab. Cab. Cab. Yet some source, some power, is pulling me to walk. The Curious Dog influence.
I walk.
Morning in Manhattan.
Man eating hot dog, at 6:45 am. Suit walking a Snow White (Snow White) Samoyed down 5th avenue. (Did she just smile at me?) Skateboarder riding down the center line of 42nd street, his right foot a piston, propelling him forward. Messenger wearing a SuperMan T-shirt races past him on bike. Tourists dragging luggage. Building attendants hosing down streets. A Bohemian musician playing his Sax. And finally, a sparrow, so delicate, so tiny, it could fit into the palm of my hand with room to spare – there she stands fearlessly on the sidewalk amidst giants, pecking at food morsels.
It’s him. He’s done it. Curious Dog. He’s pulled me here. Seeing what I don’t see. Feeling what I don’t feel. Sweeping me off my well trodden path.
Who’s the luckier man?
Notes:
- Inspired by Julia Kristeva from “Powers of Horror: An Essay on Adjection”: “…there are light touches, scents, sighs, cadences that arise, shroud me, carry me away, and sweep me beyond the things I see, hear, or think. The ‘sublime’ object dissolves in the raptures of a bottomless memory. It is such a memory, which, from stopping point to stopping point, remembrance to remembrance, love to love, transfers that object to the refulgent point of the dazzlement in which I stray in order to be.” (Thank you The Value of Soul Making)
- Photo: Curiousonbroadway.com
- Related Posts: Commuting
Live & Learn 
Love this! Such awareness. Thanks for the reminder.
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Thank you Peg.
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See it all…and the luckier man then, is you..
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Yes, agree. I felt gratitude for the young man and the ability to catch the transference.
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would like to spend a few hours in your mind…one morning
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Oh Boy. I’m not so sure about that Freddie. This posts are heavily edited. 🙂
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The sparrow is the luckiest of all.
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She is! 🙂
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I know a lot about birds, but I still can’t tell a she sparrow from a he!
The book sounds very interesting.
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If it looks and acts like a she, she’s a she. Who’s going to prove us wrong?
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Then, she’s definitely a She!
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you are all connected, even the sparrow.
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TRUTH.
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Your ability to put “words” to the every day is spot on. I put words in quotes because your words are always more than that.
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Hi Claudia. You made my day – and it was a long one. Thanks so much for your kind words.
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I read this book while sitting on a bench overlooking the old city of Jerusalem. Good times. BTW, haven’t seen your usual presence at my blog lately, is all ok? check in…
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Hi. I’m sorry Jacob. I think you may have me confused with another blogger.
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No, we are blog friends. Come visit!
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I read that book and was amazed at how the author could know what it was like in that boy’s head.
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Masterful. Genius.
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“sweep me beyond the things I see, hear, or think.” This is what makes us see the gift in every moment. Wonderful experience for you.
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Yes. So true Karen, thanks.
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The man defined. Loved it.
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Yes!
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Beautiful post. Enjoyed reading it.
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Thank you Indira.
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There is such richness here to sit with. Thank you David!
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Thank you Val. Have a good weekend
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