Nine months.

While biking through Williamsburg tonight, my ear caught an angelic voice whilst my eyes caught a glimpse of dim light tucked on a quaint street. I had to find out where it was coming from. I quickly turned around, and followed the voice. It led me to a bar called Lot 5 Bar. The voice turned out to be Joni Mitchell, blaring to an empty minimalist bar with a lone Polish bartender named Emilia. So I had no choice but to go in and have a drink. Emilia and I shared our NY wartime stories; stories of heartache, struggle, love, and redemption. Before we knew it, two hours flew by and I had to make my way home in the crisp, autumn night. The bare streets were my friends and I finally made my way home, feeling accomplished. Alright NY, I forgive you.