Roadrunner Twice

All I could do doing those three days was talk long-distance to the boy I already knew I would never marry in the spring. I would stay in New York, I told him, just six months, and I could see the Brooklyn Bridge from my window. As it turned out the bridge was the Triborough, and I stayed eight years.

(Yeah, almost at the end of the book. I lost track of all the bits I wanted to share with you, and most of them were better than this one, but it's the one in front of me now.)