New York really puts on her finest when she dresses up for fall: her bluest sky, her brightest sun, her faintest moon rising pale and mysterious in the daylight over the East River. I walked through Manhattan on the way to treatment, reveling in the glorious day, a cool breeze idly frisking the fallen leaves already beginning to fill the streets.
When I finally come to First Avenue, I turn the corner to find a little bread-colored church illuminated into holiness in a shaft of light like the very smile of heaven come to bless a small corner of the world, where even the golden cross perched on top beams in the beneficent glow.
I quickly lift my phone, snap a shot, and text it to Katie with the caption, "What a lovely day!"
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