Rain

Accept that New York has a wet season and always carry a sturdy umbrella in April or you will meet the fate of all who’ve treaded before you on Vesey St. between Church and West Sts. The rejected carcasses in black, blue, red, and every other plastic hue create an umbrella cemetery that is surrounded by Asian immigrants undercutting each other to sell you the cheapest umbrella as the grey skies drip down your back and make you question your love for New York.