It was the month of August. Above the streets, just as in the underground, everything was as one imagines, heat, sirens, bustle and hustle, views and lights, inspiration and dreams, all and much more in the city some call “The Concrete Jungle”.
After a quick walk around the block, maybe two or three, along the west side of the Central park, a restaurant was chosen randomly. A few minutes later, with drinks and food ordered, one recognized someones voice.
Quickly everyone realized that familiar voice belongs to the familiar face of a person who’s been occupying one of the seats around the neighboring table. That someone, although a bit older version of the same character, was no one else but “little Alex”.
You asked in what restaurant? – No, restaurant wasn’t Korova Milkbar and he was not accompanied by his three droogs, Pete, Georgie and Dim.
That’s it! 🙂
That was a close encounter of the “cult novel” and the “cult film” kind, a little treat mostly only very Big Apple can offer.
View on NYC from the Empire State building…
Washington Square Arch, NYC…