It’s All Right

Saturday morning’s slate-gray, wind-whipped bluster was an angry, Joycean tempest fit solely for hours indoors with tea and sympathy. Abbi and I braved the elements nonetheless, striking out through the icey, soggy streets to yoga at Exhale on Central Park South. Arriving waterlogged was rich irony, as our instructor, Kirtan, and I had conspired to…

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