Coming Back from Long Island

The rest of the Slurpee melted into a frothy pink soup and I wedged the cup between the seat and the door. We got caught in a throng of rubberneckers, lusting for a glimpse of carnage perhaps, but when we passed the accident on the other side it appeared unspectacular. Suddenly the cars spread apart to reveal Manhattan: an array of gray glyphs on a page of sky.