Private Story
Coney Island
The train ride to Coney Island would take an eternity. It is at the end of the R train and I live in Downtown Manhattan... 64 minutes and 17 stops later, I would disembark and stomp through the sand for hours on end. The beach was always packed. I would weave in and out of the lines of greased bodies, but no one seemed bothered. Everyone was engrossed in their sunbathing, playing, grooming... I was invisible.
Amy Lyne