They were sharply dressed surfer dudes on a spree that took them 
from their base in Miami Beach up to their lair in New 
York, a penthouse suite in a Manhattan hotel. Hunger got 
us back to the hotel. Seconds later, a short, mousy little girl emerged from the back and wrapped 
herself around this woman's legs. Came a squeaky little voice from the back.
I rubbed my eyes open, blinked rapidly to clear my vision and saw that the window 
was open, and a harsh December breeze was assaulting our little safe haven in waves.

A huge crowd was gathering some distance 
away, with more and more people coming out of their homes like little ants and heading in that direction. After she was but a dot in the 
distance, I decided to go to the hovel she had just come out 
of. I made my way upstairs, and found her staring off into the distance, 
hair fluttering with the soft evening breeze.