Back in Brooklyn, at the kitchen table -- hard to imagine a hurricane happened in our two-month absence and that people are still struggling in other parts of the city. Our neighborhood is so tranquil. It's almost eerie. Working on my Spanish. Reading gets easier all the time. It's been a long road and there's still a long way to go.
Somehow the F train remains the same, although the orange is a blast from the past: old cars. It's jarring, and it's cold.
At one of our favorite local coffee venues: the Brooklyn Commune in Windsor Terrace for breakfast. Reading from hard copy and device.