This was a September 11th drabble I wrote for my friends Nancy and Kim, who're from NYC.
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He longs for the streets. The hustle and bustle, tires screeching somewhere, the occasional run-in with the cops. Thin-crust, New York-style pizza. The 6 train, Forbidden Planet and pretzels from a vendor speaking broken English. Seas of yellow cabs. That giant ramen cup in Times Square. Central Park; oh to run in the park! To be free…
When he closes his eyes and listens, London almost sounds like New York.
Midnight.
He crosses that fateful day off on his calendar, switches off the light and crawls into bed, his silent vigil over until next year.
Yuki still misses the City.