The Orris: A Cultural Journal

Coney Island

I grew up by the ocean.  To me, the smell of salt air was more than just a summertime feature but a comforting part of an eastern breeze year-round.  I knew how to tie a cleat before I could tie my shoes. The rhythm of the tide accompanied the give and take of childhood.

A month ago I chose to transplant myself to New York City in search of a new life.  Most painfully, this new life, with all its excitement and adventure, is removed from the salty air I once called home.  So now when the concrete gets to be too much, I take the subway the half hour to Coney Island where I can feel a little bit of comfort along with an amazing cross-section of New Yorkers.  On the boardwalk, English isn’t the first language you expect to hear; instead there’s a mix of a hundred different voices and tongues from all over the world.  As I hear them speak words I don’t understand, I am reminded that they, too, are transplanted, and perhaps they come here too to find a bit of home. —Megan McCormick

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

— Megan McCormick

Advertisements

Information

This entry was posted on October 9, 2011 by in Issue One and tagged , , , , , , , , .

(C)

All content on this site is the intellectual property of "The Orris" journal. For information regarding re-publishing of articles or images, contact theorrisjournal[at]gmail.com.

Join Us

Currently seeking editors, graphic designers, and web developers. If interested in collaborating with us, contact theorrisjournal[at]gmail.com.

Advertising

The Orris is currently accepting offers for advertising and sponsorship. For more information, contact theorrisjournal[at]gmail.com.

%d bloggers like this: