Sometimes, after playing tennis on Roosevelt Island, I go next door to the hospital and visit George. I think that I'm the only one. George just wants out of there and they won't let him. He's losing his mind, and for good reason. That hospital's awful. Funny how the tennis courts and the hospital lay in such close proximity out on Roosevelt Island. Two different worlds sitting side by side. The great game of tennis sits so close to the sorrow of so many in that miserable hospital. Two very different worlds, just a few steps from each other, yet a million miles apart.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
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