Shell Fischer
Shell Fischer, a writer who lives in Park Slope, has recently given up her bicycle.
A Mural of Déjà Vu
By Shell FischerIf you’ve walked along the southeast corner of Flatbush and 7th Avenues recently, you may have noticed what seems like a new mural bolted to a brick building there, and, if you’ve been in the neighborhood long enough, experienced a sense of déjà vu. It could be you’ve seen the mural before, years ago. Or perhaps, if you look closer, you recognize yourself amongst the photographs of people looking at that same wall, or passing by it.
Food Not Bombs
By Shell FischerOn the day before Easter, they arrived quietly in Fort Greene Park, pushing a heavy granny cart up a steep hill before settling under a huge European beech, choosing a spot just above the tents of the farmer’s market. Shouts from a soccer game mingled with the laughter of children in a nearby playground.
Accidentally Caring
By Shell FischerBecause I am not family, I am not allowed to know what happened to a man I saw Oct. 14 in Park Slope, lying in a pool of his own blood after a car had crashed into his bicycle on 6th Avenue, near Lincoln Place. I spent the entire morning searching the internet, calling local newspapers, posting a question on a blog.
