Short Story: My Manhattan

This was an essay about New York City, but don't worry, I added my own spunk and experiences to it. Jadefireeyes

 

New York City used to be a forested island where beavers gnawed on wood and bears roamed and deer pranced through bushes, and countless types of trees hugged the land. It was sold to early Americans for a few petty trinkets because of a deal not fully understood. Skyscrapers had long sprung up, obscuring the sky, and automobiles had claimed the noisy streets. Crowds of bustling people march on the sprawling pavements, and advertisements and lights dance in Times Square. Fancy department with well-renounced names vie for dominance. They say it’s the city that never sleeps, the most magnificent city in the world. Therefore, it would be easy to predict that Manhattan has infinite attractions, but I only indulge on a sparse few, all of them cheap for a large dose of leisure.

The Empire State Building is a prominent spectacle, rising above the metropolis skyline, and the urban city looks finer still when viewed aloft the observatory deck. It even lights up in flashy colors for special events. However, I prefer to just gaze upwards, because of the expensive tickets required. The Statue of Liberty, a long-celebrated icon of New York and freedom, is cloaked in a creamy green icing and is worth a visit to see on the free Staten Island Ferry, which I enjoy as well. I look over its railings to see the rippling deep water, and savor the sensation of wind tickling my cheeks. Ellis Island is also an option, which received immigrants going to the United States looking for a better life.

Sometimes the subway can get a tad dull, and it’s a luxury to know that a station is bedecked with sparkling stores: Grand Central Terminal. I don’t go there to specifically to buy, but to do one of my favorite pastimes, window-shopping. I relish checking out glittering merchandise and the wide diversity of spectacular items you can purchase. After all, renovations since it opened in 1913 have transformed into a safe haven for the bored hub of visitors.

Rockefeller Center is the jewel of my sightseeing. There is a mighty sculpture with an inspiring fountain piercing its metallic skin. During winter, there is an ice rink that is worth it just to observe the happy people milling around on bladed shoes on frozen water. Fine cafes make up the structure of this creation, which was named after a billionaire. Regal flags salute the wind.

 

A street

away is my pristine escape from the hubbub of the city. There are benches surrounding strips of raised platforms. On them are flowing fountains and ponds that a few people tossed shiny coins into – I believe the water gushes from either toads or angels, I can’t remember - built into the seclusion of greenery. Here is where my mother and I always eat our lunches. Farther down are stone pots cradling roses and other blossoms. Even here are fancy stores; my favorite is the one that dishes out only assorted chocolates, the imaginative kind with endless nuts, shells, coating and shapes.

It’s an ideal place to be, wrapped by the sweet tendrils of a mute silence but still in an outstanding avenue. Forming a right angle to this is a much larger street:

Fifth Avenue

. They annually close it for the Crazy Hat Parade. I made a triangular prism out of drinking straws and secured it together with pipe cleaners to construct the frame, then stuffed it with fake flowers, sparkly cloths, and trailing ribbons. I was ecstatic when a woman asked to take a photo of me. After all, I had fierce competition, summing up with taxis created completely out of metro cards, freakish hats rising ten feet in the air, and crazy concoctions from a wide array of materials.

I wrench myself out of this scene to transport you to the lush, achingly beautiful Central Park. This is the influencing force why horse and carriages still trot around the altered modern Manhattan. The region I recall most vividly is a calm lake, where lithe birds wade nimbly through the lapping waters. The sunset reflects on the placid surface, as the sun retreats its way down over the view of the city. Trees, that bring tranquility to the mind, rein here. It is one of the loveliest places in New York. 

How can we forget museums? They deliver an aura of wonder of the past. For example, the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The awe-inducing exhibits make you adore the amazing things elapsed humanity has reared. This is why I love Manhattan, the Utopia next door.