I miss 

the call of the Subway train. 

I miss 

the 40 minute commute in the pouring rain. 

I miss 

the mariachi bands and jazz musicians playing for pennies. 

I miss 

the pop up shops and exhibits, which most randomly appear. 

I miss 

the scent of sweet churros that crunch between my lips. 

I miss 

the waterfront paths that always harbor a breeze. 

I miss 

the brightly colored toy shop on Franklin Street. 

I miss 

the loud bangs of a broomstick on my apartment floor, meshed with the sound of my brother’s laughter. 

I miss

the old New York City.