A Certain Spontaneous Realization at the Corner of 4th and A

A few minutes before,¬†Antoine¬†had exhausted his anxiety in a certain spontaneous realization of his place in the cosmos. He understood all at once why he had suffered as a child, why his parents couldn’t possibly give him the nurturing he needed, and how he had ultimately contributed to his recent divorce. It was a moment he treasured, sheer white light on stone.

And yet now standing at the corner of 4th street and Avenue A, the sidewalk slick with rain, the sky pale grey, he was no longer able to put his finger on the thoughts that, minutes before, seemed to have changed him irrevocably.

His idea had been undone, pushed aside by a million variables of cause and effect in front of him. The facade of a clothing store, the yell of a bus driver, the smell of a wet street, the blurriness of his vision, the thought of his sick uncle.

So focusing his attention on his feet, Antoine resolved to remember how he had eradicated his previous worry, only to feel, a few minutes later at a loss; the future would continue to arrive, undoing him and his thoughts again and again.