“I’ve always said New York is the city that never sleeps,” Carrie narrated, watching her half-full mimosa slosh rhythmically against the side of the flute. “But I never expected it to start tossing and turning.”
“My Manolos!” Charlotte shrieked, clutching her ankles. “If a crack opens in the pavement and swallows my limited-edition pumps, I am suing the tectonic plates!” 6.6 Sex and the City
As Carrie sat at her window later that night, the city skyline flickering back to life, she began to type. “I’ve always said New York is the city
Miranda, ever the pragmatist, was staring at her Blackberry. “The subways are down. The bridges are closed. We are officially trapped on an island with eight million panicked people and a dwindling supply of premium vodka.” Miranda, ever the pragmatist, was staring at her Blackberry
As the aftershocks subsided, the city transformed. The relentless hum of Manhattan was replaced by a strange, collective breath. Without the roar of the 4 train or the constant honking of yellow cabs, New York felt naked.
Carrie walked home through a landscape that felt like a movie set after the crew had left. People were out on their stoops, sharing bottled water and charging cables. For once, no one was looking at their phones—they were looking at each other.