Moving to New York

The city that never sleeps! read the T-shirts strung on a steel wire in the store front, rustling in the wind. Taxis zoom by like an army of yellow ants. The city seems to hum--something about the neon lights, the relentless energy that captivates the mind.
They are all drunk, the group of them, stumbling down the nearly deserted streets, crashing into each other like atoms. Lets go to the Brooklyn Bridge, one says, and they all agree.
Homeless people hold out their hands and raise their voices in song like angels with hats nearby for the wayward dollar bill.
Hiking up, they are breathless. The wind bites and cuts to the bone, but the inner warmth keeps them from feeling it. They stop right in the middle, straddling Brooklyn and Manhattan. Wow, one of them says, I never thought it would be this beautiful. Another pulls out her phone and takes a selfie, which she won't remember in the morning.
They walk back, the streets are electrified, the people lie in the streets. They are giddy with excitement, their bodies already starting to sing in key with the tone of the city. They have arrived.