I am on the 36th floor of $hotel and the city teems around me. It never slows it never stops. Perhaps that is why so many writers of disasters show New York empty and dead. The mind boggles at the thought of this place even being remotely quiet.
That being said, horns should be illegal here.
Tomorrow evening I fly into Roanoke, Virginia and then head to a mountain resort for a company meeting. I fear the contrast will leave me spinning again.
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