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Bill Hayes came to New York City with a one-way ticket, all of his belongings, and only the vaguest idea of how he would get by. But, at forty-eight years old, having spent decades in San Francisco, he wanted a change. Grieving over the recent death of his partner, Hayes discovered quickly that the city, however ruthless its reputation, can also be a profoundly consoling place.
“One of those rare authors who can tackle just about any subject in book form, and make you glad he did.” — San Francisco Chronicle
