High-rise rooftops were invented by God. This was not a question. Up here sounds and city noise are distant. She sips her coffee in deep reverie. A horn honks far below the crevasse walls formed by the uncountable tenements.
These things have been around long enough to make their way to reminiscent songs hummed by aged workmen. Isn’t that funny?
A well worn book lays on the arm of her chair, forgotten for the moment. Her thoughts are elsewhere. Across the sea Thomas was working. Life continued without her.
This is an unpleasant thought but there is no use getting worked up about it.
She chose to drive away, to fly, to leave that noisy driveway behind.