The Narrative Experience In The New York City

Being in New York City itself was all too surreal, like a dream come true. Buildings raced each other in a quest to touch the soft blue sky and people littered the streets and sidewalks. Life there was upbeat and fast-paced and everyone and everything was moving, but then you crossed into Central Park. Crossing the sidewalk into the large park was like crossing the border into another world. The milieu changed from the rapid fire movement of the concrete jungle to slow-moving peace in the blink of an eye. Skyscrapers were replaced with real trees that stood tall, though not tall enough to completely block out the looming buildings. Vibrant green grass perfectly covered the ground in place of the bleak blacks and grays of hot cement that coated …show more content…
Overgrown grass grew between the crevices that the rocks had formed. I walked up to the majestic flat stones and placed my hand on the one closest to me. Taking a deep breath, I found a crevice that my foot could reach and hoisted myself up and continued to climb to the top. Once up there, I turned to face the city and sat down. The rocks were warmed from the sun and although they were rigid, they seemed unbelievably comfortable. I finally saw the the beautiful sun for the first time without having to bend my head back as far as I could since I had been in New York. It shone down brightly, warming my skin and glimmering off the glass of the skyscrapers in the near distance. I could finally feel the soft breeze wrap around me and not get deflected from the buildings. I watched the people from the city enter the park and watched as their city attitudes give way to the magical ambiance of the park. I closed my eyes and took it all in, and I could’ve stayed on top of that rock for …show more content…
It slowly went in circles as the horse went up and down. However, this carousel seemed to be magical. It enchanted me as my house seemed to gracefully make its way in a circle. I threw my head back and laughed at the absurdity and amazement of it all. Here I was, in New York City, riding the carousel, and I was having the time of my life. I had never had so much fun with obnoxiously loud carnival music blasting in my ears, small children stupidly goofing off in front of me, and the smell of food that was so greasy it made my stomach turn. Things that usually gave me a migraine, now made me intoxicated on my own cheerfulness. However, everyone knows that all good things must come to an end. Shortly after my dad and I had exited the carousel, it was time for us to leave the park. I felt a pang of sadness when my dad said it was time to leave so we could catch our train. The malevolent train that wanted to rip me out of the park, out of the whole city entirely. My time of frolicing in the park was done and it was time to