The statue of the semi-nude goddess, which once sat atop the city's train station and had stirred both controversy and the hearts of many young men, now sat gathering dust in a darkened basement.

Rattled by her recent encounter with what she believed was a UFO, Janice, in a desperate attempt to prove she wasn't crazy, began incessantly calling 911 whenever she saw anything out of the ordinary.

"Hell, I don't live close to the bone, pal, I'm subsisting on the damn bone," said Smiley, his gaunt features taut, sallow eyes boring into mine.

Many mornings began with calls from the criminal class either angry at seeing their names in print or ready to tell-all on friends who managed to get better deals from the DA.

Turner bent down low and followed the movement of the paint stroke across the canvas, awed by the masterly form used by his rival.

In the distance a dark shape perched on the top most branch of a dying tree backlit by a steel-gray sky heavy with snow and cawed mournfully in response to its nearby brethren.

The junkie sitting across from me nodded off and began to descend towards the subway floor, her head incrementally inching downward as if in a slow motion fall.