Winterthorne
She loved the city at night. It lay stretched out for miles before her, a beautiful, twinkling mural, almost devoid of all the sounds of life as she observed it from above. The faint noise of traffic and the pedestrians that strode slowly along the sidewalks hardly reached her. It would be the last night she would see its pulsing beauty from her balcony. She had taken a break from the hours of labeling and packing away each material piece of her life in the condo. The movers would be there in...