A long summer afternoon in New York

By February 20, 2012Projects
girl at battery park fountain new york

A long summer afternoon in New York

There is a huge disconnect with the way she walked amongst the children. You could always see a furrow in her brow. Like she was constantly thinking too hard.

‘Stacy’ her mother said absent mindedly, making sure the steering wheel was attended to, ‘Make sure to clean up your room after you finish your homework. You have piano lessons at 3:00’

It was the second thing she had said to Stacy all day, if you don’t count ‘iron your shirt’. The second was ‘you’re going to be late for school’ during breakfast.

Stacy stayed quiet.

‘I just need to pick up a few documents’ she said, but Stacy was looking out the window. Thinking too hard.

It was the way the water rose from the park ground unexpectedly. The children screamed with open mouthed smiled, either from complete surprise or to indicate it’s ice cold temperatures.

The car began to rise past the NYC heat. The fountains carried on carelessly.

It was the way the sunlight delicately hid behind the clouds that made it so inviting. The way the kids ran around, some with only their knickers on.

Stacy furrowed her brows some more. She didn’t like the way it made her feel. Like she was being mocked. Like every laughter was directed at her automobiled imprisonment.

Stacy unlocked the car and walked out, marching towards the gushing coolness, bracing for the watery shock. They died down the moment her bare feet touched the wet ground. Her freshly removed shoes quietly stared back at her.

Across the street, her mother came through the doors and found the car empty.

‘Stacy what are you doing?’ she yelled across the street.

The fountains erupted, barricading her out view. Stacy furrowed her brows and ran with the children.

Conversations by the Window Seat is an ongoing creative collaboration between Adrian Seah and Romila Barryman, with photos and writing themed around a common love of travel and discovery.

View other Conversations by the Window Seat or read more of Romila’s writing at her blog Daydreamsonlooseleafpaper