New York snowfall

I walked out in the snow this evening to buy a pint of ice cream. Flakes brushed my umbrella; snow crunched underfoot. Snow fell my first night in New York. I had come from Boston to interview for a job at St. Martin's Press. Afterwards, I called a college friend I knew to be in the city. We met for lunch, and he mentioned Henry Threadgill had a gig that night at the Knitting Factory. He offered his couch, and I decided to stay the night. We walked out of the concert into a blizzard. Traffic had all but stopped and people were skiing in the street. Snow covered our shoulders in seconds. The flakes were large and fell fast. We walked from the club to the east village, slipping on the drifts that had already piled up along the sidewalks. We stepped into a cafe for coffee and sambuca and to watch the snow fall. The windows were fogged over, giving the outside world a dreamy quality. A small jazz band played in the corner. A clarinetist soloed. Everything seemed subdued, as if all the city had paused to gaze at the snow quickly blanketing the concrete. I met my friend's girlfriend that night. He had thought to marry her. Years later, he married my cousin. Posted by eku at January 28, 2004 12:14 AM