"Because at the end of the day," June thought, "there really wasn't anything else like it." The big city on fire at two in the morning. It didn't make sense to her why she liked it so, but it made even less sense when he turned to her and admitted that he did not. "I'm sorry," he'd said, "but I just don't see it," and he was wrong on two counts. She didn't understand, and he didn't understand, and when he reached for her hand she pulled away. In front of the sparkling lights and the stars averting their eyes behind blankets of pollution, she pulled away.