“Goddamn , that’s beautiful!”
Bill shut up and turned around to see if any of the other passengers heard him talking to himself. Most of them didn’t seem to care what he did.
They read their papers or books, or slept as the jet circled New York for the tenth time. It was six o’clock in the evening, the “hour of the stack” over Kennedy International when arriving flights from all over the world played a cat-and-mouse game with one another while flight controllers snatched themselves bald in frustration.
Bill didn’t care. He loved to look at the city below, especially with the sun going down. Street lights and lights in buildings began to come on and all of New York would soon look like a batch of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds arranged on a jeweler’s black velvet display case.
It wasn’t only how bright the city looked that excited him. He remembered what he’d done the last time he came to New York and why, and…