My Bridgeside Apartment

My Bridgeside Apartment

A Story by DannyLynne Riley

Something happened yesterday a moment that stole the breath from me and I felt the earth shift slightly upon its axis. A rumor that I have heard before suddenly became a bit more real as I gazed at the front page of my local newspaper and there in colored format lay the sketch of the cities newest urban developmental dream..a beautiful courtyard and plaza splayed out on the very block that I have called home for years and nowhere within this garden of urban Eden lay any evidence of apartment buildings or domestic dwelling units of any kind. And although it may be more than a few years in the making it appears that not only will my apartment building be bulldozed to the ground but it is quite probable that I will be the last occupant to ever reside within its beautiful walls. And it breaks my heart. I have loved this apartment with such a passion this glorious home I've made for my son and I. Every wall hanging every table every knickknack so precisely and deliberately placed within its structure there isn't one errant piece not one randomly placed trinket everything strung together with luv and spirit and history like little wishing wells telling the story of me...a map of my spirit symbolically threaded throughout This is my "Carrie" apartment...my "New York State of Mind" apartment and I honestly cant see myself living anywhere else unless of course it is New York. My mother says that every time one door closes another one opens and I hope that its true that perhaps this will be the final push propelling me to that empire state that jeweled city of bright lights and big dreams that is forever calling my name but I have spent some of the very best years of my life here and I longed for this space years before actually making it my home and let me tell you it was not as easy as "Dorothy" clicking her "Ruby Slippered  Heels" together I lived only a block away for almost 5 years and every time I would walk by it I would wish on stars...it was often vacant and I always knew of the specters that resided there as well silent occupants of residual entities from days gone by I knew it was a special place catching glimpses of them as I strained to peek through the empty windows realizing that there were others who never wanted to leave this space either and who still occupy it to this day every now and then their presence spills through but mostly we live side by side uneventfully  and I expect I will miss them too. It's always been a mystery to those around me how I find more solace in structures and cities than I do from those of flesh and blood that perhaps it is some character defect a way to keep other hearts and feelings at bay...but I think Ive been given a great gift the ability to see the years gone by recorded within the walls and cities like windows that others cant see and its truly not such a stretch when you think about it for everything in the world and outside of it as well are made up of tiny atoms and by sharing this one common denominator we are all connected to each other and to everything around us weather it be stone or flesh so when the one heartbreaking thought came to me how in the world will anyone ever know after the buildings come down and the cement fountains and manicured gardens are erected how will they ever know that once there was a girl who would spend crispy autumn evenings smoking cigarettes on her balcony spinning poems and urban dreams in her head as she gazed out at the perfect view of the lighted bridge and the south end of the park and the beautiful knowing of how good it was to be alive and how lucky she was to live in this new york state of mind apartment learning about life and discovering herself and those around her...how would anyone ever know what a special time and space she occupied....I knew I already held the answers for in those same building blocks that make up walls as well as people those same atoms make up pen and page and I would always exist within them. My treasure trove of words would be my Heaven and I could live forever in their ethereal world and perhaps one day hundreds or thousands of years later there might exist another girl who had the same uncanny ability to read walls and peer into my windows watching my scenes and seeing within them the beautiful structures that once contained me and that once I had called them my home.

DannyLynne

© 2013 DannyLynne Riley


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This is a beautifully written piece. It's always nice to find some thoughtful and philosophical writing to explore on a Sunday afternoon.

As much as it's the human condition to try and preserve our world and the comforts associated with it in a bubble, time inevitably moves on. Change will happen regardless of how much we fight it. But it's how we deal with those events that defines the experience. I love the fact that you recount both the negative aspects of the eventual loss of your home, with the possible positive outcomes and even the prospect that it might help you further your dream of one day living in New York. You balance both aspects very well so that the piece doesn't become a negative piece on account of the loss, but it also gives proper weight to the importance of what you might lose to keep it from being falsely positive that the change can only good.

Great work!

Posted 7 Years Ago



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Added on May 30, 2013
Last Updated on May 30, 2013

Author

DannyLynne Riley
DannyLynne Riley

Eugene, OR



About
I was born in Springfield Oregon...but grew up in the Southern regions of the country. At age 15 I entered into a world of prostitution and heroin addiction that nearly claimed my life. Through it .. more..

Writing