These are some very nice people. They have moved to your neighborhood of Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Be nice to them. Approach them with flowers and dinner invitations and you will receive some fine company.
Last night I spent a long time perusing Violet’s fine photographs, missing them and thinking of the Manhattan skyline, back then visible from my high school on the hill in Jersey City, and now from their living room. When I was fifteen I could ride a bike (borrowed from a neighborhood skate boy, we never had bikes)to the waterfront and those glittering gray slabs of promises loomed right there, but we could go no farther than the grimy Hudson, pitching cigarettes into the oily drink and going home before we got in trouble.
Maybe some time I will go the rest of the way. I miss the lights.