People tend to talk to each other out on the pier. It’s just an assembly of pilings and mortar. Walk back out onto Rockaway Avenue and strangers pass with their eyes focused elsewhere. Maybe it’s the horizon or the water itself, or maybe it’s some ancient agreement, like the Canarsies (or whoever) would put their differences aside at the fishing hole. Cuz hey— folks gotta eat.
Life is tough working a shift at the Park Slope Food Coop.
DEPTH OF FIELD—I didn’t really mind being assigned the class. I guess I’ve developed a reputation for being good with the ED kids, and pretty much all the kids at Automotive are emotionally disturbed, so I was surprised when Mr. D took the time to run it by me beforehand.
DEPTH OF FIELD—I read on the internet the other day that Europeans brought the rat to Hawaii, and it took over the island in a New York minute. But what exactly it took over isn’t clear to me. Alleyways? The space between walls? Everyone has space between walls. That’s where the outside meets the inside and they find their balance, like in a decompression chamber. You don’t want to let the outside in.
