Illusion on Lexington and 4th

            Steam rises through a manhole cover as I emerge from the southwest exit of Grand Central station in Manhattan en route to donate my sperm. I moved to New York City from rural Vermont a few months ago fueled by a lifetime of vague romantic ideas about New York City that I'm now replacing with experience. 

The streets carry the bodies of the wealthy, the aspiring to be wealthy, and the homeless. The subway cars are filled with these bodies, who brush up against one another.

🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅🚅

            The sperm donation office is in a really tall metal skyscraper. From the street it looks like a giant Pez dispenser. I imagine what's going on inside– laughter, bustling around desks and computers, smiling faces, and tables with catered food. Each office space for 70 floors contains a new cast of characters, playing out their dramas.

I take the elevator up to a hospital-style waiting room and sign in. There's a chart on the wall indicating the ideal foods for maximum sperm production– it includes beef and walnuts. I donate my sperm for $100, and they tell me to return in 2 days.

🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄🐄

          Instead of immediately leaving the building, I feel like exploring, so I meander down to the 6th floor where I find an abandoned office space. Looking out the window I can see the Manhattanites, marching in lines like ants. To the right, I can see directly into the building across the street and there is not a single sign of life. Through each window, I can see only furniture.

Catty corner there's a huge building made of bronze. It has geometric patterns going all the way up the side. Through its windows, there is also no movement, no business, no people.  

On the other side there's a brick building in which I can see a man standing on a ladder painting a wall white, but other than that, from my vantage point, every visible floor is vacant. 

New York City is alluring. It draws you in promising everything. Standing on the street, looking up at the tall buildings, it's easy to feel small and insignificant.

But what if the buildings are empty?