My apartment, the business downstairs.
At street level, right there, that is a hearse, parked, below my windows. The hearse is always there; I live above a funeral home in Bed-Stuy.
I am asking myself, right now, staring at this view, what I am doing living here. I've asked it to myself in a specifc way that I've made myself aware that I've not asked myself this question before, at least not in a way that would have expected an answer. I do not really have an answer. I think it's because: I once wanted to live in New York City, not with roommates, on a budget, this was the best option I could find back in April.