Andrew Crisci
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TWO YOUNG OFFICERS DOWN
I remember a time when New York City was a booming city of tourists and a haven for its residents. One could walk down Madison Avenue and feel safe and enjoy the weekend strolling. People were friendly and they smiled. Unfortunately, the New Year came with its gloominess and worries. We endured two years of distancing and masking, shunning most social activities we once took for granted. There's a huge problem of restlessness in this city: it's gun violence. The last victims were two young police officers who served and honored their emblem. They were entrapped in an ambush in Harlem and went down, but a third officer shut the gunman.
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Confessions
THE SPECTER OF HUMAN GRIEF
De Blasio the ex-mayor of New York City was replaced by Eric Adams who vehemently promises to work with the Police Department and bring changes to New York City terrorized by guns. De Blasio failed terribly, these past two years he got criticized for his inability to govern and control guns. He was in office throughout the pandemic and saw how devastating it was from the East Side to the West Side and through all the other three boroughs. He was unable to defeat it with all the power given to him. Governor Andrew Cuomo was blamed for the thousands of deaths which were senor citizens with Covid-19, he put them in Senior Adults Communities infecting others as well. People were dropping like flies, death was everywhere. Everybody was scared and did what they could not be getting infected with the virus. I took public transportation to get to work and wore my mask, washed my hands constantly, and watched Fox News for updates. I read extensively, informing myself. Knowledge is necessary for this age of evolution and chaos. Perhaps I was the most frightening human being on this planet, shunning everybody thinking they would give me the virus; if somebody coughed or sneezed, I moved away from them keeping the distance. Yes, Covid-19 and Omicron are airborne and I did as they suggested on TV to wipe down everything: remote controls, computer boards, kitchen counters, doorknobs. I inhaled so much fume from disinfectants that I got sick from them. I needed to put a stop to my obsession and come to grips with reality. Was I the only one feeling that way? I saw people do exactly what I did and it brought some relief amid the horrors of catching the disease by staying positive that things would eventually have gotten better, and be able to breathe once again without worries.
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Motivation
COMPLIANCE DOESN'T IMPLICATE FEAR
Is this a horrible time in our human history: a fiction written by science to scare us all, or it's actual reality? Seeing billions of people from New York to Peking wearing masks that make breathing hard even for children, it's heartbreaking. Doom has descended upon us: we are a rebellious human race, denying the consequences of our actions, feeding on misconceptions about the vaccination meant to save lives, not to spread misinformation by fanatics and fools who have caused extensive damage to fallacious minds. I didn't resist the vax, as as a matter of fact, I was one of the first participants in line at the mass vaccination facility at the Aquaduct Race Track in Ozone Park, Queens, NY.
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Confessions
Gogh Helped Lily Overcome Her Darkness
That winter's late evening was dreadfully cold, one could feel the chill enter the bones, and Lily standing by the front door of the run-down house, shivered and coughed and she only wore a white dirty T-shirt and cotton pants not enough to keep her warm. What was Lily doing outside when the thermometer read 34 degrees Fahrenheit, was she punished for doing something wrong? Any good mother wouldn't do that to a small child threatening her welfare and possibly dying from the frigid weather. Hypertension was settling in and she screamed for help. For how long could Lily have endured such cruelty? Who could do such an unthinkable deed when the wind harsh battered the windows and frost thickened?
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Fiction
Gianni Believes In Dreams
Gianni was a chubby boy who loved to build things and draw cartoons with crayons on colored paper and he saved every creation in his design folder. What motivated Gianni to draw such happy images? It must have been his passion for Micky Mouse, Charley Brown, Sponge Bob, Batman, Petty Boo; they were the iconic cartoons that inspired him, perhaps he would become another Walter Disney and direct his own movie someday. Did he imagine working with a movie crew directing and being the center of attention?
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Fiction
The Toddlers' Playground
That January morning was moderately warm, and to everybody's surprise, it induced a miracle. January days are usually frigid and folks took advantage of the mild climate either by walking, jogging, biking, reading, or by any other relaxing activity. My daily routine was almost a ritual, most afternoons I took the two toddlers to Forest Park which is located in Richmond Hill, Queens, NY. This park is flanked by two busy roads: Park lane South and Myrtle Avenue. Forest Park is centennial and it's densely populated with wildlife and vegetation, and unlikely other parks in the New York City area, it's in a decaying state. It's also customary for newlyweds to take a stroll through the flowery garden beyond the Buddy Monument and have selfies, photos, and videos taken. It was built in remembrance of the fallen soldiers who served in World War I. The Buddy Monument depicts a young American soldier in mourning prayer with his head bowed contemplating his comrade's grave and his dire fate.
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Families
Another Little Mozart
One late afternoon in mid December Martha, the mother of Jack, who was in her early eighties, told an amazing story about her son Jack while having coffee in the parlor with her neighbors; it was a weekly gathering to discuss the holidays, or just gossiping about people they met at the Food Emporium supermarket, or at Petco. She gently sat in her Queen Anne chair, and leg-crossed, she started to speak. Her gaze went back to Jack's adolescent days when her home echoed with his exciting screams when he played with Snoopy knocking down every toy in his way. She didn't mind, as long as Jack was having fun. Martha opened her diary and stared everyone in the eyes demanding attention, then her story began to unfold while outside the first snowflakes fell on the pine-covered street rekindling the Christmas spirit.
By Andrew Crisci4 years ago in Fiction
