Nadav Spiegelman

Insomniac City

Bill Hayes
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In New York, there is always something amazing happening somewhere that one ends up hearing about only later.
Every car on every train on every line holds a surprise, a random sampling of humanity brought together in a confined space for a minute or two—a living Rubik’s Cube.
Cleaning up the kitchen, O, washing the dishes, commented: “One feels they want to be cleaned. One feels they appreciate it.” The dishwasher wasn’t completely full, so he added already-clean coffee mugs and glasses to it, “so they have company.”
Now, shall we have something to drink? Coffee or vodka? Those are the only two things I know how to make.”