Chainlink

Steam billows from slick, rain-soaked pavement. The city is a wash of grayscale, streaked with a yellow flash of cabs. It buzzes with the thrum of bodies charging up and down the block, emerging from subway stairs, revolving doors. Speeding cars screech and stop. A slant of light stretches across a stone façade. You turn the corner and pass a bodega with a storefront covered in fresh flowers. Their bright scents rise against the metallic grit of exhaust and linger with you as you continue walking on. It’s early morning, the start of a new day. The beginning of so much else.