There was a smell of something baking with lots of vanilla in it on the east bank of the Gowanus this afternoon, right through the valley of death that is the Casket Block. It was the smell of breakfast and a new day. My salivary glands expressed themselves in optimism, admiration.
I returned on the G train and when I sat down and put my parcels before me I noticed a ladybug on my thumb. It immediately flew off, in that bumbly beetle way, to the ceiling of the train car. But then, as I was reading this fine article, I lost its coleopteric pilgrim’s progress. Had it flown out at Smith & 9th Street? Was it hunkering down to go towards Williamsburg or beyond into Queens? Where ever you are, little fare-jumper, go in peace.