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No. 211 - My nails are the same color as your sweater.

Updated: Mar 14

I sit on a silver bench at the corner of Varick and Charlton. A woman delivering mail for the U.S. Postal Service walks by, pushing a dolly, north along Varick. She lifts the back of her right hand toward me. "My nails are the same color as your sweater," she says and smiles, waves, then continues walking by.

March Thirteenth, 2020

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