It took until Monday morning as I was packing a purple and blue beach towel, a bottle of sunscreen, a Fage greek yogurt, and a book of essays into a backpack and throwing on my lime green, sweat stained Seattle Supersonics hat on the way to the Dyckman-200th Street subway station, boarding the A train downtown in the direction of Coney Island-Stillwell and sitting next to two gentlemen both with creased leather briefcases reading the New York Post for that long-dormant unbridled adolescent summer vacation mood to settle into my 29 year-old bones and breath. An hour-and-forty-five minute ride one-way is no … Continue reading 7/17 – Coney Island, Brooklyn, New York