From the Archives some pieces inspired by a Sunday spent in New York in 2017
You Must Take the “A” Train
Sundays at Marjorie Eliot’s house
(a poem)
I nearly fall but catch myself just in time, Luke and I slip and slide across the pavements, the backstreets of Harlem have made us ice skaters and there is an undeniable magic in the air, a feeling that can only truly be captured, on a Sunday afternoon, in a city that is not your own.
It’s hard to believe it was this very morning that we had decided to divorce. I go and count the steps out the Met, Luke heads to the Natural History Museum, reconciling over lunch, we try to avoid eye contact.
Pretending to read my book
Suddenly I am drawn to a previously unseen footnote, someone has scrawled in blue black biro…
New Yorks best kept secret
Sundays at Marjorie Eliot’s House
555 Edgecomb Avenue
Luke being my favourite person, is all too easily convinced. Magic afternoons such as these are so few and far between, that it is our moral duty to indulge in this necessary flight of fancy.
Now we both have a twinkle in our eye and I cannot think of anyone who I would rather accompany me on this ridiculous quest, then my soon to be ex
best friend
Finally here is a video that I took at Majorie Eliots house on that fateful afternoon
