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About New York City

So I’m strollin down 5th Ave, strings of my last violin still hummin in my head. The city stinks—piss, hot dogs, desperation. Perfect vibe to find a prostitue. I see her, leanin on a lamppost, skirt hiked up, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “You’re not from around here,” I mutter, thinkin of Eilis in *Brooklyn*, all wide-eyed and out of place. She smirks, “Wanna bet, strings?” Strings! Ha! She clocked me—violin guy. Made me grin, rare for me.

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Now, lemme get bumpy: I love strollin' along Riverbend dr. It’s not the Thames or anything, but its waters seem to whisper secrets, sounds like “Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate…” – ya know? I get lost in thought there. I even once had a super zen spa session by the riverside and BOOM, my mind exploded with those movie-level visuals. Totally surreal, dude, like layers of a dream collapsing!

Figure 2. Representative preserved earthworm specimens collected at...