I remember fighting a rather lonely wind as I crossed Central Park on that particular Wednesday before Christmas; an old faded newspaper flapped in the breeze against a wooden seat but I could still make out the headline: ‘JFK Dead’. They would be coming soon, those wise men from the east, the Beatles with their new English beat music. Perhaps we could stop grieving and begin to move on. I clambered up the hill, crossed Central Park West sliding in to 72nd Street and as I passed the Dakota building, a cold chill made me pull my coat in tight.
A STORY IN A 100 WORDS
bobby stevenson 2012
bobby stevenson 2012
Terrific story! Also, where did the picture come from?
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, I believe the photo came from googling on the 'net. All the very best, Bobby.
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