I went to Pratt Street today. It was a little hard to imagine it as the Measure of Success. The Achievement. The Step Up.
Hmm… The steps. The steps of Pratt Street.
So I sat on the steps and it helped.
I let my mind wander and I wasn’t on the steps of a stranger’s North Philadelphia row house anymore. I could see all the young and beautiful people, I could hear the echoes of a family filled with hope and pride, all the happy go lucky siblings who banded together and made it to the big city.
The magic is in the steps.
I guess that is why I have always liked stoop-sitting. It’s in my blood.