He would turn back to the solace of his bed, curl up beneath the sheets, and drift off until it was time to begin his day anew; now, he could only ache for those moments—those blissful, brokenhearted nights where sleep, though deferred, would always welcome him back to its peaceful embrace. At that time, his biggest concern was whether or not he would ever find his soul mate; now, he feared for his sanity.

Tim’s thoughts had carried him all the way to the Delancey Street overpass, which he crossed, continuing his journey. He jogged along the blacktop that ran beneath the gloomy shadow of the Williamsburg Bridge before reaching the main stretch of the road. The first shop owners were arriving at their establishments, beginning their morning routines and preparing for the day ahead. Some would grant...

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