Chapter 02: Thin Cities 02

In this thin city, where whole sidewalks sag below their collapsing eaves, I come to realize that my place is, right this minute, a tiny slice of urban history.

The wind sweeps through it, dragging bags of trash over cracked brick, flapping curtains, rattling windows. But the grit that coats everything here softens the brittle, icy sounds, making it a little more welcoming, a little more welcoming, indeed.

One winter, back when I was more thoughtful, I rented an apartment on the other side of town and walked to my workplace in the evening. Almost all of those brisk afternoons and evenings of frozen walks turned out badly for me, and for this strange little city, too. But that one trip with clear skies and a balmy wind set something off, changing me, blowing the barriers around me open to another way of thinking.