monochrome

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New York, west side

I rarely find myself in this part of town, all the way Midtown west. Highways lead into the city or run up along the edge of the island; paths criss cross above you in the air.

I recently read an article where someone mentioned the stacked life of New York—how in any given area, there are lives being lived below ground on the subway, at street level, and above ground in apartment buildings and offices that stretch towards the sky.

It's always fascinated me that so much can go on around you, and in New York it's more fascinating still how so much can go on directly above and below you. There are times I wonder at the bumps in the night that I hear from upstairs and wonder what noises Frank downstairs might be hearing from me. Fortunately, the people above me have soft feet, though there are those nights that I can hear the sound of heels being dropped on the floor and I know they have just come home from a night out on the town.