Neo Noir New York: Reveries

“Don’t you see?” She wondered aloud, eyes opened wide to catch the fading pastels of the summer sunset, which hung like an oil painting over the jagged silhouette of the skyline. One hand rested on her hip, her thumb through a belt loop, and the other extended, aimed up into the distance, like an arrow pulled back on a bowstring. “See what?” I asked, more to hear the sound of her voice than to uncover any deeper meaning. “The clouds,” she explained, “they’re the same as on any grey, dreary day, except for the way the sun is sitting, just beyond the horizon, throwing warm light into the canopy. And where we stand, it’s so specific, that not a single soul will see what we see.” She turned to look at me, her eyes flashed with thought, and I realized it was the deeper meaning I was after. Sometimes, the only way to feel right is to be wrong, and measure what you learn by the distance in between. -Dave Krugman