| Eventually, we need to get out of the apartment and away from a television for a little bit. The streets are empty all through the West Village. We grab lunch at Florent nearby, one of the only restaurants that appears to be open. Evan's O+, so we head to St. Vincent's Hospital nearby to see about giving blood. There are hundreds of people, reporters, smoke. We wait in line, he places his name on a list, and we stand in awe of the horror that's occurring in front of our eyes. |
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