Literanista
April 24, 2025
Somewhere tucked away, high on the Palisades, on lovely, dead end street, in the ether of the internet and Google maps, our former landlord sits on his front porch. The majestic three-floor home, originally built for the purveyors of the Lincoln Tunnel, sits perched high above the town’s high school and river promenade. Several steps away, a plaque commemorates the Burr-Hamilton Duel and the quiet streets where I walked with my newborn gleam as if brand new.
He turned away, from us, the viewer, is speaking to someone, perhaps it is one of us or his wife.
Time stands still.
