I’ve got my watch on my left wrist. My green shirt is buttoned up. I dunk a cum wad into the trash.

The girl still isn’t dressed. She’s buck naked, trying to hide from me in the bed.

I’ll get ready, she says, asking me if it’s cold.

I tell her that it’s not too bad.

She doesn’t wear her coat. She’s wearing her rain jacket.

Oh yeah, she says sarcastically once we’re outside, it’s not cold out here…

It’s really not that bad, I say.

She pays for my ticket in quarters and gold coins.

She still has three dollars on her pass.

The train comes. She wants to get on it because it’s warm inside.

We ride all the way to Court, past Metropolitan and the L.

The 7 train is above ground.

Fifth avenue is the stop where the library’s at. The train deposits us into Bryant Park. I make for higher ground to get a better view, but Musette knows where the library is. I follow her through a side entrance. It’s a bit of a letdown not passing between the two stone lions.

There is a security guard checking bags.

I ask him where I can get a card.

He tells me that I can get one just around the corner.

Following his directions, we are lead into the children’s section. There is a desk with two women sitting at it; one of them is on the phone, the other is looking down at her computer. A sign says that the line starts somewhere else, but there is nobody in line.

I approach the woman who is not on her phone. She looks up at me.

I’d like to get a library card, I say.

She asks me for proof of address.

I hand her a letter addressed to me from the Portland classical music station.

I tell her that I already have a Brooklyn card.

She takes it and connects it to the New York City system.

Now all you need is Queens, she says, handing me my information back.

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