July 2, 2016
I boarded the N train at the 31st Street station in Astoria. It was a gorgeous fall day in New York City in the fall of 1994. I had moved to the city a few months before.
I watched the Manhattan skyline appear to my right suddenly. I had not thought about Ceremonies for some time. I had gotten lost in all the glories of the city: the people, the buildings, the parks, the water, the politics, the art….
Emerging into Times Square, I wandered down Broadway. I thought about Ceremonies. Most of what I had written over the years had been truthful, that is, what had happened. But I realized now that fiction was a combination of mix of truth and imagination. Sometimes it was all one or the other; sometimes a blend. It was time to get back to writing Ceremonies. I came to Herald Square and perched on a bench, watching the passersby.