Its 2am. Do you know where your children are? They're walking through chilly fish puddles in a year-old $86,000,000 refrigerated facility in the south Bronx.
If you can't sleep, go to the fish market. Its between the meat market and the prison, and is filled with fluorescent lights and the pungent, gleaming catch you were hoping to find.
Its cold and damp. Guys have cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, and many of them have round bellies that bulge protectively close to the fish, watching over them.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The New Fulton Fish Market
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2 comments:
This last gentleman looks like his world is a very interesting one.
Good post.
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