August 19, 2016
Hey there birthday boy!
I haven't heard from you in a while. You okay? I hope you're just busy basking in the late summer sun.
Also, I have a little present for you. A late happy getting older gift. I was going to hold on to it until you finally hauled your ass down here, but I think it might be better if I just send it to you. I’m still hoping that you make it down at some point. New York is beautiful in the fall. Promise me that one day, when we're older and rich, we'll travel together. Please.
These last couple week that I've been back in New York have been a bit of a ride. Summer feels over now. Summer felt over the morning I woke up in my last day in Toronto. Doesn't matter that is still so hot I can’t sleep. So hot there were newspaper warnings about cockroaches taking to the skies. Did you know that cockroaches like to fly when it's really hot and humid? Biblical plague and heat death.
I have a lot I want to write down but right now—7:46am on the 1-train heading south (we just passed 110, and I'm switching to the express at 96th)—isn't the time.