The woman looped the necklace around her neck, wincing as the cold pearls touched her skin. The blue sapphire pendant glowed just as coldly. It was time.
Her husband sat at the piano, dressed in his Sunday best. Next to him sat the little girl, choosing the evening’s song. She had their daughter’s sunny curls and voice like wind-chimes, but she was not their daughter.
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This is where I started—on the cold streets of New York, with the subway station to my right and a homeless man to my left. For years, this view of concrete and brick was my view as I hopped on the A train away from Brooklyn. I had a corner of Manhattan where I set up my guitar and sign: PAYMENT ACCEPTED IN SING-ALONGS, IMPROMPTU DANCES, AND SMILES.
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I didn’t know it until that moment
The words hung over us in midair
Her dark eyes wondered if I meant it
And I realized then how much I cared.
I counted our heartbeats in the silence that followed
And I felt the truth so clearly
The woman I loved stood before me
And I knew she would always have me.
© Jade M. WongRead More »
Since the day it first opened its doors, the Funky Munky was the place to be for any self-respecting monkey on any given night.
The drinks were acclaimed. Its self-named house drink, The Funky Munky, a sweet and tangy twist on the classic mojito with strawberries, pineapple, and a dusting of banana-flavored salt on the rims, drove the primates, well, appropriately bananas. Read More »