I’ve been back home for a couple of weeks now, but it feels so much longer. It feels like New York was ages ago. I miss the cold streets, the walk along the Pulaski towards the 7 train. I miss the banter with the guy at the bagel shop while he makes my standard morning order. One everything bagel, toasted, with a bit less cream cheese than usual. That’s how he remembered me. The foreigner who asks for less cream cheese.