• The windows down, the breeze blowing gently through the window. A roar that sounds ever so distant sounds off. This roar, getting louder and softer as if it were music.
    My grip tightens on the wheel, the cold getting to my finger tips, the wind blowing through my hair. I stare at the road in front of me, so desolate and lonely. Lights flash as if timed to go off. The rustling of the people in the background ringing through my ears. The engine roaring louder, for anyone else it might be deafening, but its peaceful. This place giving off a serenity of sorts. Calming, as this road continues onward.
    This place is like no other, many have died, many hearts broken, so many different faces. Its almost like a battlefield, but its not. Despite these dilemmas its beautiful in its own way. Everything times as it should be, almost like a chorus. Just looking up mesmerizes you, making you wonder how far it stretches its grip. This place seems to never end, as if it is constantly growing.
    While looking up is mesmerizing, looking down is majestic. This simple concrete, it seems as if this is the bottom of it all. When deep beneath this paved metropolis lies another world.
    The car revs its engine one more time, as I grip my hand around the shifter and put it into 4th, only hoping to stay in this place for one more minute, but alas its time for me to leave. Despite, I will be back, always and forever to see the beauty of this city, the city of New York.