Tuesday, July 17, 2007
A couple of weeks ago, the Korean market on the corner closed. It wasn’t an especially sudden thing. There was a month of destocking — or un-restocking — that filled the store with the strange feeling of accumulating absence. Then there was a brief sale — half-off anything left — and finally darkness.
I walked past the store again last night. A window had been broken and taped over, and a woman leaned against the dark storefront and asked for spare change. I had never realized how much light that store cast upon the neighborhood, how much briskness it gave its sidewalk frontage.
When the market closed, I found myself thinking, “Now what do I do with this?”
I seem to recall a quote - you're a New Yorker when what isn't anymore is more real than what is now.