It's Quiet Uptown

Part Two: Walking by Myself

I walked the streets of my New York City. This early, it was almost empty. A few groups still wondered around it. I heard a whisper.

"Do you see him in the street?"

"Walking by himself."

"Talking by himself."

I knew these things were true. I let a tear roll. I'm glad they didn't have to know the pain.

I continued walking, talking to myself.

"Philip, you would like it uptown," I said. I always liked saying that. "It's quiet uptown." I felt something touch my shoulder. I spun around. "Philip?" Nothing answered me. I think they could hear the cries blocks away.

I muttered a swear. This has already happened 3 times this week. It happened uncountable times since the death. I didn't know why. Sometimes, I'd see Philip playing with the children. I'd see him in the streets. Most of all, I saw him in the garden. Even though Eliza barely ever uttered a single word to me, she nodded when she saw me speaking to him. She must go through it, too. She must be going through even worse. She doesn't go out. She doesn't talk. She doesn't eat.

"Eliza would like it uptown." I knew I had to win her over. I knew she couldn't go much longer like this. So, I was determined to bring her out. Let her listen to the quiet, let her see Philip with me.