On the cab ride home.

I had just kissed L. in front of her place in the cold and she'd stopped shivering as soon as we kissed and we kissed at length, elaborately but not extremely, she reticent with the tongue. Yet when I pulled away her lips were dewy, her eyes misty, and she bore an expression I'd never seen before, a faintly melancholy yet expectant look, and I kissed her again, pressing her left shoulder blade with my hand.

On the cab ride home there were men climbing into a hole in the street.