remember discovering that I could walk all by myself to the drugstore to buy Coca-Cola Italian ices and blue push-ups; the deli for "black-and-whites," and garlicky "new" pickles plucked with long tongs from the barrel, and steaming, peppery knishes; Carvel for hot fudge sundaes, and coffee ice cream sodas with extra syrup please; and a store called Sweets 'N' Treats, for Hostess apple fruit pies that became "French Apple" with the addition of raisins.

These strolls were my first sketchings of the inner map of a world that belonged only to me.