Black Ice Tuesday
Once upon a time there was a tiny concrete park in midtown Manhattan. A massive sheet of silently flowing water scaled the entire North Wall.
Black Ice Tuesday, not a soul in sight. Summertime lawyers, accountatnts, and brokers were eating lunch squirreled away in butter toasty lush carpeted offices high above the insanely bitter bone chilling weather lurking one step beyond revolving glass doors.
Eager Beaver faced the H20 extravaganza absorbing random radiating glinting. In his left hand he deftly concealed a rosey quartz smoking piece in a black fleece lined glove. Fire flashed from his right ungloved hand. Eager procured several deep hits as the cold penetrated up Timberland boots and through his down coat sporting bright colorful images of animals and foliage.
Eager setting a quick pace managed to land at the Museum of Modern Art's door in under 10 minutes. He was excited as always in anxious anticipation to meet his loyal friend, New Idea.
