I end up at a row of benches on the edge of what looks like it could be Riverside Park, and a group of people from my past are holding court. They're all set up like we were as kids: brown paper bagged 40s, a boombox, legs lazily splayed, but it almost feels like an official meeting. I'm there for an evaluation of my life, but there are no judgements. It's all warmth, laughs and advice, none of which I can remember afterwards, still it's somehow both stressful and soothing at the same time.
Photograph fragment by Jill Freedman
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