Three days, one hour and 4 minutes ago I was walking towards the East Village to have delicious Serrano ham eggs Benedict with a group of good friends. Apart from a couple of Duane Reade medicines and cornhusks (wtf, I know, one of Dan’s “indispensable” cooking utensils) my Christmas gift shopping was done. In two days' time I was flying home to Spain for the holidays. The first snowstorm of the season began hitting Manhattan right after I exited Astor Place subway station surrounded by the usual Saturday crowds in St. Mark’s place.
Three days, one hour and 3 minutes ago I was lying on the cold icy street, my leg broken and my prospects for the next few months irreparably disrupted. This is the chronicle of my new life out on a limb.
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