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Saturday, May 2, 2015

Lost In New York, parts 4544 - 4547

 4544. Perhaps I am just projecting my experiences onto Coromo, and that often happens when someone you are reading about appears to encounter problems you yourself encountered in your life. 


 4545. Although I have been vague about this connection between Coromo and myself, it is partly because I am reluctant to talk about myself in any detail. After all, this story is about Coromo, and if I developed terrors and phobias in my life similar to Coromo's it is simply a coincidence.


 4546. It took me thirty years to overcome my fears, and I am happy to say that I did get to see the corner of Clinton Ave, and Willoughby Streets quite recently but it was not the same as I remembered. Gone was the terror and the foreboding, gone too the atmosphere of anger and despair.  


4547. Now it was a respectable gentrified neighborhood, of no interest to anyone except perhaps real estate agents and investors. But I could remember another time, a time of rats and the sight of the bones of people long dead, falling out from behind crumbling walls in tenements. 



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