teach my feet to fly

In New York for the week and in the subway at 42nd street were three men with violins playing a version of Pachelbel’s canon so hugely, surprisingly wrenching I started crying right there on the platform like someone had punched me. A song for the corniest diamond commercials, and yet. Everything so close to the surface.

I wanted to stop, to listen and say thank you and give them every dollar in my wallet, but the crowd pushed me on down the corridor and that’s how it goes sometimes, looking back behind you at the beautiful thing. A guy on the train slid right over for me, made room.

Merry Christmas, angels. I’m taking next week off but will be back in 2015 with more stories, a giveaway, and good news to tell.