The article reflects on a chance encounter between the narrator and an ex-boyfriend at a DMV in Brooklyn, prompting a wave of nostalgia. The narrator recalls their shared youthful experiences, encapsulating moments of both laughter and vulnerability. As they sit together, the ex reveals he's in love with another woman named Esther, hinting at the passage of time and parallel life paths. The narrator grapples with feelings of love, memory, and the bittersweet nature of past relationships while discussing the mundanity of life and moments that linger in the mind.
I remember the windowless room and, outside, all the free books on the steps of stoops, flowers in buckets at the bodega, his arms where the shirt stops and the skin begins.
On this day, we sit in that room and play cards together while I slip my papers in the half-moon tray and take a number, wait for someone behind the bulletproof glass.
And now, in all senses, it's some real universe bullshit that we're living ten blocks apart and, since he has the day off, he comes to sit with me on a bench.
There was a naked parade and no one wore a skin suit - dicks and tits hung loose, flapping in the wind as the cyclists cruised the route.
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