You sit alone in the kitchen eating your lasagne. It tastes really good, just as you like it. The Tv is still mumbling, but you are too concentrated on your meal. After you finish it, you clean the dishes and light up a cigarette and open the window to let the smoke flow out. The cold december air bites your arms as you do it. You can hear the sound of a distant police car's siren. It reminds you of New York, the city that never sleeps, the city you used to live in. But it's over now, it's history. You finish your cigarette and close the window.