a verbal illustration.

my comrades, my comfort.

Amid the fleeting moments the bustle of New York City has to offer, a never-ending conversation full of secrets, laughter, stupidity, and longing finds a niche in the hearts of our blackberries. The chit-chat amongst four 20-something Manhattan gals started who-knows-when and does not cease. The clacking of our nails on the keys is louder and stronger than our heels on the pavement as we make our way to work. The banter exchanged amongst the four during their time in their cubicles, at their seats, in front of their monitors, at their keyboards, always takes precedence over the day's work. The lines of conversation are an endless stream full of codes and puzzles and jokes and gossip that an outsider can only quizzically stare at with no means of any comprehension. As the day progresses and the chatroom finds its winding way through and around the most meaningful of meaningless topics, relationships and friendships both, have the ability to strengthen and weaken in the way only words can force them to. We can only hope that the conversation exchanged face-to-face when at home together at the end of the day, is just as beautifully wild.

Here's to you, bbm.

Cheers,

Cheryl