Outside, the autumn air had become frigid. Andrew and I stumbled through our old neighborhood, eating pizza on greasy paper plates. We stopped on a street corner. “What do you miss the most?” Andrew tossed his plate in a sticker-marked garbage can. “About being here. About this whole part of our lives.” I looked around us. The glittering yet grimy buildings. The pockets of privacy and the perpetual noise. The whole city was just an experiment in contrast. Young and old. Rich and poor. Dreams and failures. Life and death. “The energy.” I tossed my paper plate; my previous, celebratory mood had
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