It's Different This Time

by Joss Richard

There’s something gratifying about how life on the West Coast is slower, but the electricity that flows through Manhattan is unmatched.

I didn’t realize I was homesick for a place that I refused to think of as home.

The street is as undeniably charming as it always was, and I’m lucky I was able to call it home for years.

The theater used to be who I was, and since leaving it, I’m not sure I know who I am.

“An autumn walk in Central Park,” Adam says. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a tourist,” he says, walking toward the subway. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re taking New York for granted.” I hurry to keep up with him.