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The ground is uneven everywhere I’ve ever lived pt 2

In 100, by Nora on November 25, 2019 at 3:58 pm

The scuffed wooden floor of my Brooklyn apartment sags deeply, comically, in the middle. If you stood on one side of the apartment, near the heat-leaky windows, on a snowing-cold winter night, looking back at the door to the closet and the bathroom, you would see it: all three door jambs slanted in wonky opposition, the floor sloping blithely toward the ground underneath, three floors below. When that floor was flat, this was an abolitionist neighborhood; now it sags toward the densely-packed C train, the only Underground Railroad left, which may be our last – deeply, comically inadequate – force for diversity.

  1. Goodness me, you have a way of wrapping culture in words and it takes my breath away

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