It had seemed like a lot of money at the time, but looking back on it, the one-bedroom apartment they had shared with three other people seemed like a bargain for the location. Of course the view was the brick backside of another building and the black metal fire escape from their own; the light filtered down through this narrow urban canyon in hazy wafts of grey and gold. But it wasn't like they spent any time there, anyway, other than to sleep or cook the occasional pot of pasta.
How silly to get all sentimental over that ridiculous apartment, like pining for a can of sardines! She snapped out of her recollection and back into their current debate, deciding on two olive trees for the front yard, but her heart wasn't in it. It was wandering the crowded, grimy streets around that apartment, ducking into the cupcake boutique, arguing for classicism at the modernist gallery, and ordering beer by the pitcher to wash down the packs of cigarettes they smoked to fuel their long, sleepless nights.
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