If we had not gone to Times Square that day...

on the healing power of theater

We often made our way down to Times Square. 

When my best friend Sharon and I had spare money, we took the 2 train from 96th Street. I can still smell the air in the subway platform now — fetid, like socks that need changing; metal, from the tracks in the divide between the uptown and downtown sides; stale pizza crusts, the rich depths of body odor, a sh…

This post is for paying subscribers