From New York, January.

From the early alarms set for trains, for cycling classes with a belly too big now for cycling. A mental bookmark on every avenue from past lives: where we spent one snowy Saturday afternoon playing billiards, the CVS that took those horrible passport photos, my regular spot for a slice of pizza when we were too poor (poor and happy!) for anything else.

And from where I converse silently, now, with a papaya-sized babe: "We can do difficult things," I say. And, "here is the kindness of strangers." Also, "this is a place I can't wait for you to see with your own eyes."

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