Washington Square Park

It was his second night in New York City. Morale was running low. He’d lost his wallet at some club around 12:38. After some time, in the search for his wallet he had lost his phone. After being lost for what felt like eons, but was probably only an hour or two, he’d lost his hope as well. He grew up in a small town which meant his navigating skills were about as good as any other average persons since the creation of iPhones.

Getting lost in New York at night was just as scary as he imagined it would be, but he didn’t anticipate its beauty. He went in circles around the numbered streets. He was sure the apartment was on fifteenth until he wasn’t so sure and finding his apartment was like dreaming of flying to the moon.

With his heart caught between racing and giving up, he stumbled upon Washington square park. While it was on his bucket list, it meant that he was totally screwed because his apartment was on the other side of the city. Part of him knew he should be panicking but fatigue tore away any urgency to find the apartment which he paid several hundred too many dollars for.

The towering arch stood with the stone posture of a Knight. The streaming fountain sat just beyond the beckoning archway, its water running with the ferocity of flames but was cold to the touch. Caged lamps veiled the park in a quiet glow as if they held the power to hush the chaos of New York. Skyscrapers cast down their light like stars did when clouds weren’t there to hide them. Midnight shadows waltzed around the cobblestone in perfect time to a beat that was gifted from the wind.

He took a spare coin from his pocket, fiddling with it until the metal warmed. He wasn’t much of a church goer, but he said a silent prayer anyways. It consisted mainly of blasphemous retorts to god and several unholy words to Jesus. He neither faith nor hope in miracles, but all the same he tossed the coin into the fountain and wished for a way home.

It was by chance that he saw her singing out loud with her headphones on. The tune was familiar. She sang very few lyrics right, so he only recognized it because it was his favorite song. Her eyes were closed as she swayed with the shadows. He tried to guess what her little world consisted of because whatever it was, she was at peace.

He looked to the city lights for courage. Approaching a crazy lady singing in the streets asking to borrow her phone wasn’t how he planned to spend his time in New York. But he guessed what people said about New York was true. The city never did sleep.

He sat somberly on the edge of the fountain, as if he were sitting on the edge of the world, humming along.