Anisa Shabir

I came to Paris Baguette again. Had that pizza pastry and a slice of mocha cake with caffe latte. I think this is going to be my one-time meal for the day.

The sun is warm. 2nd floor. The huge front window overlooking the Margaritaville. The 99 cents pizza shop across the street. People. Lots of them. Walking the streets. Their movement stopped briefly by the walk sign.

But the air even after stopping is thick with the hum of the city. The languages, of all sorts, spoken, in various tones colliding in air. The staccato of the heels worn by the finely dressed ladies, drowning in the rhythm of sneakers and other shoes that walk all at the same time.

“Topviewnycdotcom downtown” says the open roof bus. It’s empty. Probably waiting for a group of visitors that will be clicking selfies, hardly aware of what landmark they passed.

Ray Bans, Gucci, and other fancy named sunshades, or the ones bought from the trolleys that can be found on the streets a few steps away from the shops. Who knows.

The New York Times Building in the same block. I can imagine the reporters and editors on the news desk working on the news all day long and rolling out tweets. I can smell the roasted nuts, the food trucks selling a wide variety of fast food, and ice cream. People buying copies of the New York Times, The New York Magazine, or the New Yorker from the bus terminal across the NY Times Building.

I haven’t finished reading the “The talk of Town- Carlson’s war” from my priced copy of the New Yorker. Tucker Carlson who was fired from the Fox News is everywhere these days. The touch of the hard copy of the newspapers and magazines I read back home on my smartphone has a feeling of its own-news and stories look better on the pages than on our digital devices.

The TV screen on the building showing a man rowing a boat. “Office space available”. A man riding a bicycle on rugged terrain. It will go on. During day I don’t see if they serve any purpose. At night these screens light up the Times Square. People will continue walking. Their destination unknown to me. Not that during the day there is nothing happening. But that the city comes to life after dusk.

The heavy roadblocks that designate the area as public space, filled with chairs and tables. Where people catch a break, drink coffee or stare into the void.

The “I” HEART “New York” sign. The gift shops with that symbol where people who love NYC buy souvenirs I imagine.

The subways spread across the boroughs of NYC like the spider web. Cold and empty at times.

One has to stand sandwiched when crowded. “Damn, it’s toasty in here!” one random woman catching the subway said.

They never seem to stop. I guess that’s how NYC is. The people, the screens on building, the news and the subways keep walking, flashing, breaking, and moving.