the lost man chronicles
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the amber glow (of this cosmopolitan life)

As the breeze shimmered the leaves, I shook the chill out of my shoulders and I felt that the cold season was upon us.

I had not begun begrudging just yet, and reminded myself to reserve judgment until winter was over. For there was fun to be had—along with all the sludge and shoveling.

Or at least, that is how I consoled myself as I braced and grimaced against the cold wind weathering my optimism as I walked to the bus stop during, enduring, this dark October morning.

Waiting, I smiled contemplating how serendipity had earlier smiled upon me, as I had patiently searched frantically for the proper lining to my coat.

At first, after struggling to button the sleeves in, I discovered that the zipper was missing. I vied to use another vintage insert, but found that its zipper was not only on the wrong side, but too small as well.

Resigning to make do without, I looked throughout the closet for my scarf. To my pleasant surprise after some hapless shuffling, I realized that the first lining actually belonged to another jacket I had by the same designer. For there, lying on the floor all rolled up alone and lonely, was the proper linier.

Warm and toasty, I began defrosting a few minutes into my commute. At 6:45, the sun was barely opening its eyes, and beamed an amber glow over the metropolitan horizon. Birds were also just realizing it was time to get up, and flew slowly in flocks over the still cool rocks and languidly rippling water of the Hackensack.

Curling into the tunnel, I noticed a small star blinking atop the Empire State Building, peaking out through pink clods, silently alighting the Manhattan skyline, advertising aloud its stalwart position as the withstanding promise of the City.

Thereafter I could not pity my tiny troubles, reminded of how lucky I am to be privy to such beauty—the spire and the splendor, the golden chance to tender and take advantage of all the grand opportunities offered by this cosmopolitan life.

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