September 20th, 2004
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Flashes of Pittsburgh in the night
I lean back in my chair, and I see Beechwood, snaking back into Squirrel Hill from the south, with tales of the Waterfront and Loews Cinemas, of dead smokestacks and deader Homestead. Chaya, where I won and lost a job in a matter of minutes. Bruegger’s, and the bacon scallion cream cheese. Oh to kill for a bagel, a real bagel in a real city of condiments and colleges, of parkways and pickles. If only I had a day left for each crack in the worn, road salt tarmac, I could walk back to Oakland for a blissful eternity.
