First, the why...

A friend of mine lost a family member recently and has to go through the stages of what we all have to go through when we lose someone close, whether loved or not. We got to talking about our youth. It reminded me of my first apartment on 7th street on the lower east side when I was a hippie. She suggested that I might want to write vignettes about the people that I met there. And so I am. The names have been changed to protect the innocent [or maybe the not so innocent] and you'll have to decide for yourself if what I write is real or imagined.