Below is the full text of St Mark's Ghost as read on E43: Inspiration Under Lockdown. Click here for full podcast.
St. Mark’s Ghost
way he laughed, you could tell they had history. Did they know each other from the clubs? High school? Either way, it didn’t matter. He knew them well enough to join them. It was the magic of the city. You could belong if you really wanted to.
He gave Mikey a look and this time he looked directly at him. His eyes lowered as if he knew Mikey’s secret.
Without further thought, Mikey knew what would happen next. The young man would hang out with the girls before heading back to his friend’s house up the street. They would get high with weed bought in Alphabet City and watch from the rooftop as sundown lit the street below up.
His stomach growled and the young man disappeared, as did everything else. Like a screen wipe in those films that kept him up at night. Mikey looked around and he was stood in front of Chipotle. He could see the sign for Gem Spa and Andromeda but not much else was familiar.
The street was sanitised now, you could almost eat off them. He felt the hunger pangs again but he didn’t want Chipotle. He thought of a slice but even St. Mark’s Pizza was gone. It too was consigned to history along with all the friends who once called that street home. Friends whose voices he could barely remember as the years passed.
Mikey heard the thunder above, within minutes the city streets would be drenched and umbrellas would cost $10. The temperature would remain and so would the stickiness. He headed towards Second Avenue. He knew that Veselka’s Borscht and their perogies would ground him again. Each taste of hearty Ukrainian food would let him wander through the rooms in his mind. He would see birthdays, first dates and smiles from a time he could never forget.
Why else had he headed to the East Village?
John Lugo-Trebble considers this more of a space to engage personal reflections and memories with connections to music and film.