We grabbed a bite at some floor with some pastry (the coffee, surprisingly, was decent) and headed out for our second day in New York. Without wasting time, we ran to the nearest stop for our sightseeing buses. We hopped on first: for some reason, there were no other takers yet. We intended to go to the Empire first! However, it took us about 1.5 hours to get there! Even though we could have walked it in about 20 minutes... It turned out that some big shots from the UN had arrived in the center, and with Manhattan's already heavy traffic, things went from bad to worse. Still, annoyed that we had lost so much precious time, we ran into the Empire... We were quickly issued tickets at one of the counters (at least we didn't have to stand in huge lines) and we headed up. I don't know why, but we had to go through idiotic mazes of ribbon barriers before getting to the elevator. No, it's not an elevator. It's some kind of miracle. It goes up to the 86th floor in the same time it takes me to get to work on the 4th floor every day (or even less). It's pointless to describe the sensations while looking through the grate on the observation deck. What new things could you learn from me?

Next stop - World Trade Center. My hair stands on end just thinking about what happened there. I was in 8th grade then, and the only thing I said when I saw it on the news was: "They blew them up on purpose! Look at the explosions from the base of each twin! Are you all so stupid that you don't see it? They would never have collapsed on their own, even if you stuffed 10 planes into them!". The next day at school, passions and arguments were raging, versions, opinions... but everyone was unanimous on one thing: everyone mourned the innocently killed Americans. And back then, a year ago, I watched the cosmic scale of the new construction with fascination. Why did they need this? Couldn't they come up with anything else to invade poor Iraq?

After walking around the construction site, we walked to Battery Park. We thought our water taxi to the Statue of Liberty left from there. But what was our surprise when, after standing in several lines, we found out that our stop was not here at all! We rushed along the shore towards the Brooklyn Bridge, meeting real old ships moored along the way (they seem to have been turned into restaurants now). We arrived at the right place around 3 o'clock. Seeing a line, we decided it was for the statue. We got on a small boat to the second deck and impatiently waited to see HER. But... instead of turning towards the coveted goal, the boat turns sharply left towards Brooklyn!! Stunned, we find out that this is the Brooklyn water taxi. I'm almost howling. Will we really never see her? But soon we return to the same place and finally find the right line.

Yes, she is not the giantess we are used to seeing in movies. But she is a state symbol, a person of universal respect, love, and unity for Americans. When we got close, they blasted Frank Sinatra's "New York..." in the wheelhouse. I was thrilled *) When the song ended, we sailed to the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. They are gorgeous... The first one delights with its grace, lightness, patterns... You immediately want to be next to V.V. Mayakovsky, huge and loud, like the bridge itself, saying: "The Brooklyn Bridge - that's a thing!"... It's not just a thing, it's a work of many arts, without which it is impossible to imagine NY.

When we returned to the place, it was already starting to get dark. We drove "home" to the center for a long time (again, because of the hated traffic jams). Fatigue and exhaustion had taken over our bodies and minds so much that the planned trip to Central Park had to be canceled. Wild pains in the head and stomach. We threw Big Macs into our stomachs. Coffee. We walked around clothing stores in the area. Meaningless expensiveness, a swarm of buzzing people around. It seemed like all the people of the world had gathered on the street, moving and talking too chaotically, quickly... Everything is flickering, glowing, screaming. It feels like a dream that is about to end and a new quiet, calm, and bright morning will begin in our little house on 17th Avenue... We decided to go to Burger King opposite Port Authority, to have a bite to eat one last time, to drink an Iced Mocha..

We weren't allowed to sleep. Both of us. The plane to Philadelphia is around 7 am. And we need to be at LaGuardia by 5. We picked up our things from storage immediately, as the luggage storage only opens at 7. The waiting room is packed. The wind blows through the huge halls. We sit on the floor against the wall, surrounding ourselves with everything we have. I'm passing out. Horse doses of previously drunk coffee are like water off a duck's back. Torment. A subway exit leads into the hall. Sometimes people appear from it and disappear in unknown directions like ghosts. Although in my state at that time, they seemed exactly like that to me, and I didn't pay much attention to them. Kirya is fighting a stubborn battle with sleep, half-collapsed on the floor. After the thousandth attempt to wake him and his conscience, I decide to hold the defense against sleep alone. To do this, I decide to stand up. Standing, I think, it's harder to fall asleep. Not so! It's exactly the same as sitting. I start walking. I walk. I walk in circles. It's a little easier that way.

I'm looking at a square pillar. Another dark-skinned ghost rolls out of the subway passage and, looking around, heads at a very fast pace straight to Kirya, who is lying on the bags. Standing behind the pillar, it didn't immediately dawn on me WHY he was going there. When it finally dawned on me and when this asshole was already leaning over my little bird, I, like a furious mother partridge, jump out from behind the pillar with the most recent obscene curses. The ghost jumps back in fright and disappears. I finally kick Kirya awake and we move to another place on another floor next to the escalator. Bunches of Russian girls appear as if from nowhere. Everyone for some reason seems equally dreary. We don't give ourselves away. I don't want anything of ours. To extend our America for at least a little bit longer... Kirya goes to the toilet. Either to brush his teeth or for a number two.