Last night after dinner, Jane and I decided to head over to Starbucks to “study.” We met up
with Warren, who has recently announced to our disbelief that he is moving back to Cali. Dang,
he’s lucky...I think.

Jane studied her pharm junk and Warren did his taxes while I started the first chapter of my first
book. What the book is going to be about it still yet to be determined, but I started it off with a
drive across the Brooklyn Bridge. This beginning scene was inspired by Jane’s first “drive” across
the river home one evening, when she was struck with awe at the New York skyline and the
presence of the twin towers evident only by their ghosts, the floodlights shining toward heaven.

Jane felt that I couldn’t possible write about her experience crossing the bridge without actually
experiencing it myself. And since she does have a car and we seemed to have plenty of time for
a quick adventure, the three of us bolted on out to Brooklyn...after Warren was done with his taxes.

I can’t begin to describe the kind of inspiration that is drawn from staring at that skyline. Despite
the missing twin towers and the loss that comes with the empty hole in the sky, I couldn`t help
but be moved by the buildings full of lit offices at 10 PM, knowing they were filled with driven
souls desperate to be or make the most of this world they live in. The titanic height of the
downtown buildings, rows of bridges spanning the eastern edge of Manhattan and the energy
surging through us reminded me of why I dragged my @ss 3000 miles to be poor, live in an
overcrowded apartment and eat like a college student.

Our next destination before heading back to the city was to Verranzano Bridge connecting
Brooklyn to Staten Island, the most isolated of the five boroughs. I could hardly believe my eyes
when they rested on the magnificent glow of the bridge’s lights dotting the night sky, blue steel
piping connecting them to form a perfectly jeweled crown that decorated the river’s edge. It
was a Kodak moment, all three of us looking up at the bridge. Not a word was spoken.

Upon deciding tohead home, we got lost. It took us a good hour to find our way back to
the ‘hood. Jane was annoyed. I was tired and Warren had to piss bad.

All in all, I needed that. I think Warren did too, just to know what exactly he was leaving. Maybe
he’ll rethink his decision. Jane must be the happiest person in New York City.

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