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On Delancey and Clinton Street

My Neighborhood

People running to the train station, a daily ritual at the foot of the Williamsburg Bridge on Delancey. As I eat my breakfast I see a whole bunch of people in shoes going to the station just like always. They are always in a hurry and they just can’t walk to the station. Their shoes clattering like Marines marching to a beat. There goes the last of them huffing and puffing. Near the train station is this shoe store that has been having a not-so-good time. A big 50% off sign is on that window. For the past week it has been like that. 10%, 20%, 30%, 40%, 50% off signs have attracting people like bees to honey. People have been walking in with money and out with nice shoes from the past week. That store has no hope, it is going to go out of business whether they like it or not. Even the people coming in won’t save them because the amount is so little.

A person just bumped me who stole a glance at my notes, probably wondering what I was doing. I couldn’t see his face well because of his sunglasses. He looked kind of shady with those glasses. The next person who just bumped into me next was weirder than the first person that bumped into me. This one was wearing too much and kind of a small man. A heavy jacket, a wool hat, gloves, and jeans are not something I would wear on this great day. Well, that was what that person was wearing.

While I am coming back home from my walk, the bridge has more cars on it than usual. HONK! That is all I hear while I am walking back home. All kinds of drivers were behind the wheel of many cars, all hitting the honk in the wheel.

Glad I made it out of there! While I am climbing up the stairs people who were coming out of their apartments looked at me funny because of the notebook. I quickly ran up the last few flights and opened the door to my home and stepped inside.

The story was posted on 0000-00-00