The First Scene of The Paperback Writer of Central Park

The Introduction to The Paperback Writer of Central Park

Copyright 2016, Stella Brians

The Far Edge Of Summer, 1984

When summer ended in 1984, I  completed my young adulthood and merged into the lone wanderer that had always been inside. I left when my family was out at a folk concert on the green. Into my green duffel bag went all of my favorite clothes and cassette tapes, my walkman, my notebooks. My new life. I was eighteen years old and in love with my poetry and Cat Stevens. In love with literature, music, and world art. Heavy Metal was my lover, and I lived on my own side of the tracks. Whenever I talked about New York City my mother would get irritated, and when I went to work I daydreamed about what it would be like. On September 7th, 1984, I quit my job and took a train to one of the dirtiest cities in the world to live my dream as a starving writer.  When I first got there, to my inexperienced eye it was like Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. I went to my arranged hostel to put away my things before going across the street to call my therapist. He agreed, this was the best thing I could have done.


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