fiction from Alan Gerstle

Today I was walking along West 53rd Street, on the block where the Museum of Modern Art is located, preoccupied with something I don't recall. I was on my way to an audition, for what I don't remember, except that it was for a courtroom drama, an episode for a TV series. It was the hottest day of the year thus far, a day in late June, a Friday, and it was humid. I am prone to daydream on warm, muggy days in Manhattan. Maybe because I wish I were someplace else.
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