Marketplace

I came back to Albany on a Friday evening when the air was cold and bracing in a way I'd almost forgotten. Albany is the place I keep returning to, where I do my work and keep what bonds I have - not quite home, but close to it. The river damp caught me - soft, close, the kind that holds a while. It's the same as what I met here twenty-one days ago, except the ground beneath it is muddier now, and I'm less certain of things.