“She approved of this time of year, of its colors—richer browns than the exhausted tones of late winter—and of the annual surprise of open sky when the leaves had fallen and light outlined tree branches. She liked to be cold; she liked wind flattening her hair, but today was foolishly warm for November, which suggested global warming and thus made her grouchy and guilty, though she knew that one warm day in November was not necessarily the result of global warming. In cold weather, she walked fa...st and felt young, though she wasn’t. Con told people she was the oldest of the Brooklyn newcomers, most of whom were Joanna’s age: artists, teachers, and writers in their twenties and thirties. She needed to say she had lived in Brooklyn as a child, but she was unlike people her own age who had lived in New York all along. She cried more easily. She had missed the toughening events: the muggings of the seventies; the eighties’ frenzy for real estate while homeless people lined the walls in Grand Central Station; Mayor Koch, much of Mayor Giuliani.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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