New York is a shadow of its joyous, rambunctious self these days, as the coronavirus slinks through the city. The sight of Manhattan's empty streets shocks many who are familiar with their usual bustle - but the other boroughs have their own stories, from the ghostly East River to the musicians along the shore.
There's Coney Island's accordion player, regaling the hundreds of people tramping down the wooden boardwalk to the ocean. Only the empty rides and shuttered food shacks show that there's a crisis.
It is almost impossible to maintain social distancing, and amid the crowds, the busker's music is soothing. The player is Nick, a Russian immigrant raised in the Soviet Union and now at home in Brooklyn.
Sitting on a bench, his mask hanging loosely around his neck, he says he came to New York 25 years ago. He works at a hydraulics plant that is now closed - he's not sure for how long. "So far they keep paying," he says. Nick, 62, is near retirement, and now his job is to make people happy, he says, striking up the Funky Chicken.
There is none of that life on Park Avenue, on the Upper East Side.
The usually illuminated windows of apartments along the avenue are black. People are still taking their dogs out for a hasty evening walk, and doormen wave white-gloved hands at those passing by, but most of the residents have second homes outside the city.
Those second homes can be found at a beach or on Long Island, where life is now busier than usual. That has made itself known in other ways, as the city's sanitation department reported it picked up 10 per cent less trash in March 2020 than usual in the Upper East Side.
In the Bronx, meanwhile, one of the most popular restaurants has adapted to the crisis and is now feeding the community. Owned by the Saavedra family, the acclaimed La Morada is known for its specialities from Oaxaca, Mexico.
Nowadays, its tables are lined with a dozen brown paper bags full of apples. "This is all ready for tomorrow," Saavedra says.
These days, they are only making food for pick-up and delivery, and only for a few hours three days a week. The rest of the time, the Saavedra family is caring for the neighbourhood's neediest, and there are many. The Bronx is one of the areas worst affected by the coronavirus crisis, with many residents working low-paid jobs in hospitals, supermarkets or city government offices.
The streets of the Bronx are busy - few people can afford to stay at home. One street over from the restaurant, a man prays before an outdoor altar.
Then there's the United Nations building, peopled only by the portraits of former secretaries general. The only activity is on the very top floor, where the current secretary general works with a circle of close staff. Otherwise, the skyscraper is hauntingly empty.
The escalators are still, the stone floors echo and only a cough or splutter from a walkie-talkie reveals that security guards are present. Nowadays, the UN's councils and agencies are meeting online.
Over on Wall Street, in deserted Manhattan, the "Fearless Girl" statue is wearing a mask. The bronze figure gazes defiantly at the stock exchange - although this building, too, is empty, as trading takes place electronically.
Queens is much busier. Elmhurst Hospital has come to symbolize New York's pandemic, and locals used to line up outside to be tested while inside, people lay dying.
Nowadays, the hospital emanates a warmth. From its windows, doctors and nurses can see signs placed opposite that read, "THANK YOU," "We will win" and "Thank you for everything you do."
