5:15 p.m. Manhattan
Tonight, I strolled outside for a solid forty-five minutes in the biting cold, listening to a podcast on the Age of Enlightenment. Otherwise known as the ‘Age of Reason,’ the period celebrated culture and art and individuality. The cultural shift favored reason and science over blind faith in divinity.
As I zigzagged up and down 68th Street between Columbus Avenue and Central Park West (i.e., my neighborhood), my lips chattered, and my legging-clad knees knocked. The sidewalks and streets were white with freshly laid, fine-powder salt.
People waddled like penguins sporting double-lined parkas with zippers pulled tight and hands tucked into their sides. Some wore snow pants. Others wore Canada Goose jackets with coyote fur on the rim. I mean, this is New York.
On the last leg of my writer’s block-curing afternoon walk, I passed the homeless man I often chat with en route to Starbucks in the mornings. It was nice to see him. He assured me he had a sleeping bag for the night.
I have been anxious about selecting a profile for my first Narrative Writing assignment for Columbia this winter with Kevin Coyne, but I believe I may have a story in my friend who sleeps on the streets in 21 degrees. My friend Sam, whose story is to come.
Walking playlist:
Ashley Elizabeth Miller 
Please leave your thoughts!