Coney Island

A stroll along the boardwalk, a glimpse out towards the sea, aromas blowing in from the beach, stirs memories so close, yet just out of reach.

Walking in character, playing the role A psychological mess looking to become part of the side show.

I sit down on an empty bench and I close my eyes. I wake up to another time, in the same place. My clothing has been changed and the bench I was sitting on is harder than it was before. I stand and I look around. I almost fall as a dizzy spell hits me.

I walk, I check my pockets, I have money to spend, plus a key to a room at a place called, Kensington hotel.

I sense an aroma, hot and fresh. I look and see a lady pushing a cart. I walk closer and I see she is selling knishes. We make small talk, she has an eastern European accent and a warm motherly smile. My hand pulls out a nickel from my pocket, I give it to her and she gives me a hot wrapped knish. I burnt my lip on the first bite, waited for it to cool and then a taste. The flavor pungent, salt, potato and onion. (Too much onion for my taste) but sweet and really delicious.

I walk along the avenue watching as “freaks” blend in amongst the “normal” crowd…