Assignment for the Eleventh Week

The city was bright and alive. Broadway, from the Flatiron way on up to the high one forty’s, the two-plus hour walk from one end to the other, was a rebirth. Meredith watched the summer sun reflect off the glass of buildings, each pane shimmering like the Pacific Ocean. Lustrous green grass, similar in hue and splendor as the imitation kind found in Easter baskets, growing wild and free on Riverside Drive; fresh tulips stretching upward, outward, celebrating their freedom; the cacophony of bird song and children’s laughter. The smell of wet, dank earth from yesterday’s rain and the warmth of the day, encompassing Meredith as if she was in a sauna, gave her a buoyancy in her step.

The city was hard. The sun too bright. Reflections of that burning orb in the glass of the buildings like knives in Bridgette’s eyes. The moisture in the air from yesterday’s rain made everything oppressive, like walking through wet burlap. On Riverside Drive, the trash and detritus of the past year kicked up a foul odor of death and decay, grass tinged with brown, and the assault of children’s screams and cawing crows made Bridgette crave the cocoon of her small apartment. Tulips hung limp, their petals grazing in the dirt.