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The breathing rhythm of concrete

  • Writer: Alice Kim
    Alice Kim
  • Jul 3
  • 2 min read

Author: Annie


Some people always compare Fifth Avenue to a gold-plated necklace, but in my eyes, it is more like a domino that was pushed down by God at will - those tilted glass curtain walls, slanted neon lamps, and sliding luxury logos, finally stuck in a delicate imbalance in the grid of Manhattan.


At 7 o'clock in the morning, the cleaning truck hums Shostakovich, and the high-pressure water gun draws a fleeting rainbow in front of the Tiffany window. Mexican workers in fluorescent green work clothes are dismantling Dolce & Gabbana's cherry blossom scenery, and the pink petals float into the steel bar cutting machine at the construction site next door, turning into a flurry of burnt snow. An old Asian lady with pearl earrings practices Tai Chi in front of the delivery channel at the side door of Bergdorf Goodman, and the corners of her satin clothes brush against the refrigerated trucks piled with French oyster boxes.


At the intersection at noon, a stockbroker in a suit stands in front of a hot dog stand practicing French conjugation, and yellow mustard drips along his crocodile briefcase. On the top floor of the sightseeing bus, a Brazilian girl was copying the spire of St. Thomas Church with an iPad, and her electronic brushstrokes overlapped with the pupils of the saints in the 19th-century stained glass windows. In the homeless man's shopping cart, Hermès wrapping paper and the New Yorker magazine gnawed by mice were performing postmodern collage art.


The most moving thing in the twilight is the gaps in light: the hot air pouring out of the subway vents lifted the hem of the girl's Max Mara cashmere skirt, revealing the scabby bicycle scratches on her knees in an instant; the Russian tycoon's Rolls-Royce turned off at a red light, and the children's crayon drawings on the rear window suddenly became more dazzling than the leather seats in the car. When all the luxury flagship stores turned on the spotlights at the same time, the entire avenue turned into a transparent fluorescent squid, and I was just a phosphorescent bacteria on its skin that was about to be shaken off.

 
 
 

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