After hours at Cisco’s Disco on 15th Street Sean had stripped off her shirt and banged a tambourine over his head. Men writhed with Babylonian excess next to the Giant Cisco Can. Men danced with Babylonian excess. Anything went in the crowded club. Caroline and he had sex in the bathroom. Men peered over the stall’s walls, urging to fuck her like a mercenary and Caroline demonstrated her versatility with a natural scorn directed at the voyeurs. It had been their night to shine amongst the stars and now the winter dawn was withering the velvet blue from a purgatorial sky and the World Trade Towers cast a lengthy shadow on the two bodies lying atop a man-made sand dune on the landfill.
A rumble of powerful engines stirred Sean from his slumber on a pile of cardboard boxes. Her fur coat shielded their body from the cold. A powerful rumble of engines coursed along the Hudson and Sean nudged the blonde heiress.
”We better leave.” They were the only people in sight.
”What for?” She embraced him with a feline whimper.
"Anyone in those buildings across the street might mistake us for murder victims.” Thousands of windows overlooked the landfill.
“And they’d be dead wrong.” Caroline closed the fur coat to provide them a warm cocoon. She seemed imprevious to the cold, as if no blood ran in her veins.
“The police might arrest us for trespassing.”
"The police are asleep this time of the morning, besides I was waiting for the slack tide. Look.” She nodded to the river.
A great ocean liner was steaming down the Hudson, flanked by two tugboats.
"One day all this will be covered by apartment buildings and you won't see this sight, unless you’re living in a luxury duplex. Have you ever been on a ocean liner?”
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