Maybe This Fall Will Be Kind
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From a high platform in the Broadway Junction station, I see a forlorn cloud hovering over the rooftops of East Brooklyn. The sky around it is perfectly clear. The next morning, I find it still standing in the same spot, but it’s faded, famished. That’s how bad things have gotten: The loneliness epidemic has now reached the clouds. Espresso in Williamsburg, watermelon juice in Ditmas Park, writing session in Ridgewood, soccer camp in Bed-Stuy. At a street corner, a mural by @b
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