Carla Lorenz

The Incredible Kings

Spring was beginning to emerge in New York City, a welcoming shift in the city where winter winds tear through clothes and lick the bone. The sun was high and bright when Kiko and I stepped out of the apartment and into the noise and clutter of Bushwick. Salt and sand that had kept the sidewalk from being slick, now crushed into the pavement, sparkled in the sun creating an illusion of diamonds in the street.