12
Thirty minutes later, Cissy, Zeke, and I are riding in a cab. It pulls up to a street corner in Times Square. A chill moves over my skin as I stare out the window.
Wow.
I’ve never seen anything like Times Square. The place is filled with tall buildings and even bigger TV screens. Nothing looks worn down or crappy, like it always does in Purgatory. And the images on these huge monitors are nothing less than amazing. One shows a guy swimming. On another, a model struts down a runway with a sour look on her face. What’s she got to be sad about? She’s a model on a runway.
The cabbie twists about to face us. “This is as close as you get,” she says. Our driver reminds me of an old hound dog, what with her brown hair, long jowls, and big eyes. “You better get out fast,” she adds. “I don’t
