At eight in the morning in SoHo, the meat trucks and fish trucks unload on quiet cobblestones. A busboy hoses down the pavement outside the Savoy. A gold deer with diamond eyes peers out from behind a thin muslin curtain at The Apartment. Blue dress, pink socks, red coat, the sun warm on my back, the streets are mine.



At Balthazar, a milky coffee, sour cream walnut waffles with stewed berries, and a good, long natter with a dear friend.