"You're about to meet one Isaac Schwartz—age indeterminate, occupation unknown, forwarding address undeliverable.
His story takes place in the not-too-distant past in a tenement apartment building on the Lower East Side in New York City.
Once a tenant, Isaac is now a question mark. A man whose identity has been misplaced somewhere between memory and mail.
This is not a story of high drama or grand ambition. It's a story of a man trying to retrieve his mail. That's all. A simple task--unless, of course, the mailbox in question exists not in this world but in that gray zone of bureaucracy, broken buzzers, and tenement buildings where time moves sideways and tenants are evicted from their own pasts.
Step inside. Take a number. Check the directory if you like. But don't be surprised if your name isn't listed. For in this building, in this neighborhood, in this pocket of cracked brick and unsettle debts, the rent is paid in memory--and collection is always due.
You've just crossed over into ... Late of Ludlow Street.
Friday, May 2nd.
