U

I accidentally named this document “U.” It’s the letter my finger found when it was looking for none. U, like what? Fuck u comes to mind of course. Or Nothing Compares 2 U. Or both.

I left work and walked up Carmine waiting for something to happen. For something to remember and to read about. I peered at the faces of passersby. A little desperately. They looked the way they always looked. Wan. Preoccupied.

I turned the corner and approached the West 4th Street entrance. There was a minor commotion—two cops had been to see a homeless guy, or crazy, or something, sitting on the stoop in front of the Korean pastry shop. They turned away, apparently satisfied, and stepped into a yellow cab that was idling, unattended, at a diagonal to the curb. One got in the driver side, one got in the passenger side, and they drove away.

U.