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Adams Street, Tillary Street, Jay Street

My Neighborhood

I see cars line up to get on the Brooklyn Bridge all along Adams Street. All the honking sounds as if a fog horn went off. Everyone wants to go to Manhattan . They want to go the office buildings , the restaurants , and the famous places; Times Square , the Empire state building< Central Park. Finally the light changes and I see the first 3 cars speed up so they can get to the same place an extra couple of minutes early. They rush by to get onto the bridge and when the light turns red, the last car runs the light so that he doesn't have to wait again. I turn the corner and walk up Tillary Street. "We have cold beer, lotto sale!" I have seen these signs in the corner store window all my life. I turn the corner again and walk on to Jay Street. I look up and see my building and I think it's so tall. But when I look down the block at the other building that's twice the size of mine, mine looks so puny. Next to me is the parking lot for my building and I see the security cart roll by even though he does nothing but drive around until his shift is over. The doorman waves to me and says hi. Across the street I see the park where kids play handball. The kids play until it's nighttime. They also play basketball and the net is made out of chains. I hear the clanging every minute I walk by. The red bricks of my building stand out against the blue sky. The pattern repeats, clang from the basketball game, and repeats all around the building until it wraps around the corner, clang, and disappears. I think about all the things on my block, and then think there are so many things on one block. There are so many different places in New York that there must be even more things happening on every other block in New York.

The story was posted on 0000-00-00