“i was born in the 80′s.”

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“He’s in his 40s. I was born in the 80′s.”     6th Avenue resounds on a Friday night.

a laugh escapes me.

i pick up the pace.

weaving my way through human trafficking like only a well seasoned New Yorker can. fast.
past the good-looking man saying, “I need to learn to walk faster.”
{his friends’ laughter follows me.}

a smile escapes me.

but only in the direction of straight ahead.

i have plans for this life i’ve been given. and it’s one fine night.