Nostalgia

I wake. I sit outside a café on 92^nd street, watching people pass by, feeling the warmth of the sun through the cold September breeze. People talk all around me, but I hear nothing, I’m consumed by the taste of coffee on my lips. I wish I could stay this way. As I open my eyes, I’m overwhelmed by the deepest sadness I’ve ever known. I look at my surroundings, searching for even the smallest detail that might remind me of my hope of a better place, a better life, a life made for me. I search until my eyes tire and my heart comes to the conclusion that there is no such hope. I wake.