Tracing Time in Brooklyn: Windsor Terrace in the Seventies
“Someday we’d get jobs in Manhattan and have the freedom to do whatever we wanted.”
WHEN WE HUNG OUT WE TALKED TO EACH OTHER
Toys In the Attic
More in this series
“A smell of burning flesh fills the theatre. I was expecting the smell of blood—its rich, metallic, almost bitter-tasting organic scent.”
I feel what I feel, and I cry in the shower with a beer, but the week before I turned thirty, I felt nothing.