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What the River Says, That Is What I Say

May 13, 2017

A Thing for Words

A deer walks across the Hudson River north of the 112th Street Bridge near Cohoes

On that Sunday afternoon, Ashley and Sam strolled along the riverside walkway. It was he first day above freezing in a week and the Hudson stretched like a white highway of ice from Cohoes to Poughkeepsie.

“I bet you could skate all the way downriver for maybe a hundred miles on this stuff. It’s gotta be at least a foot or more thick,” Ashley said.

“Yeah, that’d be pretty cool. If you knew how to skate. You’d either punk out by Rensselaer or break your ankle in the first hundred yards,” Sam said.

“I was just thinking out loud, Sam. That’s all.”

“Why do you do that?” Sam asked.

“What?”

“Think out loud. Do you believe people really want to hear what another person thinks?”

“I…I don’t know. I was just talking to myself, I…

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