Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough

As soon as I stumble from the C station at 125th and St. Nick, a man shoves a crumpled tee somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach. “Ten dollars,” he barks. I duck my head, still squinting at sudden daylight. The earnest grin of “Beat It” era Michael floats towards me, almost dreamily, from a sea of upturned collar and curly hair.
Keep reading at The South Wing

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s