I watched the birds fly today.
Above my randomly-aboveground subway stop, they circle, every morning. Tawny backs and wings fluttering, then edge-on slashes like a childish letter M to signify the concept of "bird" in a drawing. Pale bellies, and the round is completed with another jagged M.
I wish I knew what they spent so much time circling.
Today brings with it a host of happinesses. The same brave soul who brewed my caffeinated beverage of choice yesterday was back again this morning, boldly adding enough grounds to the filter to turn the water brown. Bagels waited, with concomitant tubs of cream cheese. And glory of glories, a paycheck, delivered in an hour. Think of all the honey mustard sauce I can buy then.
I contemplate my adventure from last night. I am reassured that although some people may not find me kissworthy, some people do.
We kissed outside. Apart from the safe haven of the bar; we kissed on the street. I think I was more interested in this act of societal rebellion than I was in the kiss itself -- despite the liberal air of New York City, that sort of publicity spawns a host of anxieties. Granted, it was 4 am and foot traffic was light. But when someone hurled imprecations down the road regardless, I just pulled him closer. I disengaged a moment later, walked home, feeling more self-assured for having done so, having flirted with my own insecurities as much as with another man.
There is a certain power in doing something not entirely safe, and getting away with it.