Sense & Nonsensibility

The kid stares at me, staring at my hair and my dress, and then his face changes. He spots a ball in the distance, behind me, and stretches out his arm to touch it. I squirrrmmm, his greasy fingers straight out of a Lays bag are coming for me. “Ohhhhhh no!!!!! Where is the damn security guard when you need him? Shouldn’t he be here? Isn’t it his job to protect me? And the several of us French women, so old? It’s not like we can protect ourselves, we are left permanently at the disposal of these galleries now.” The loud beep goes off, the laser sensor activated by somebody coming too close to me. I heave a sigh of relief, it is slow and nobody can really see me gently blow out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding! Heavens! Can you imagine, it’s only Wednesday yet, although it feels more like a Saturday. It always gets crowded here on Wednesdays when it’s free entry to all. People rush in to get their bit of culture in, without having to spend the $25 it usually costs to enter...

You can’t hear it right now, but I can. The pattering of the rain drops outside my window. First time since I have moved to my new place-  a rainy day- warm and welcoming- trying to entice me into stepping onto the fire-escape outside my window and feel the drops on my skin. Few other things can take you to another time-.. Like a time capsule it can take to a cold rainy day in New York. It’s a November day in New York- chilly and dark. As I strap into my boots and warm jacket, I pray that the wind and rain don’t ruin our weekend here. I am a visitor to this city and am hoping that the weather would be more forgiving than in Boston. It is not. But we are here for the weekend- so we’ll make the most of it- we head out into the rain- the gray sky an evil promise of unrelenting rain throughout the day. As we duck in and out of the subway, navigating umbrellas and gloving and ungloving hands, we alter our itinerary to be indoors most of the day and somewhere the grayness is forgot...