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Plague Comforts: Empty Streets

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A lone bicyclist on a Manhattan street in August.Alex Menendez/AP

An occasional series about stuff that’s getting us through a pandemic. More here.

After the coronavirus paralyzed New York City in March, the only part of my life that became more pleasant was riding my bike.

For a moment, empty streets replaced cars parked in bike lanes, cars running red lights, cars blaring their horns for no discernible reason. On most days when I rode, I felt free. I no longer envisioned myself ensnared in the wheels of a box truck or flattened against the pavement by a charter bus that had run a red. Instead, I entertained myself, in this socially distanced reality, by riding to Rockaway Beach, or Kissena Park, or eerily silent Times Square with a clear mind.

I was still a small object amid a sea of speeding, two-ton hulls of........

© Mother Jones

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