The light is creeping in the right side of my grandfather’s window and for the moment all of New York City is glowing orange. I forgot how beautiful the view from his apartment really is. I am nestled here in Manhattan trying desperately to deal with his insanity. He told me three times that my towel is the one on the left. He has piles everywhere of documents. He wants to talk about my mother. It is going to be a long couple of days, but I am really happy to be seeing him.

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