Have you ever been alone in the city? he asked her. There’s a million people around you, but you feel lonely. Folks crossing streets in herds. Walking against red lights, he told her. Just a mass of humans. Acting like animals. Some push and shove to get where they’re going. Others just run right over you, he lit a cigarette, stirred his coffee.

Both of them looked out onto 8th Avenue. The diner had a few people in it. Mostly drinking coffee and eating sweet rolls. They shared a slice of cheesecake.

People say this is the best cheesecake in the world, she said. Perry Como came over the speakers. I’m glad we splurged and got cherries, he looked at her.

Special occasion, he said. The waitress came over and poured more coffee. Yeah, New York cheesecake is pretty good. Never had it till I got here. Looked at it in the spinning case and said, that looks pretty good. Cut me a big old slice, they laughed. How long you been here?

Going on three years, she said. I forget. It’s all gone by so fast. One minute, you’re on a bus, then you’re dumped out into the streets. You know the routine, she stabbed at dessert.

I do, he said. You miss home?

I miss having my own bed.

Yeah. Me too. Me too.

They looked at each other. Tony Bennett was singing. Taxis drove up and down the avenue. There was one bite of cheesecake left.

You take it, he said.

No. It’s all yours.

They both stared at each other some more. Left the small bit on the plate. She rolled her fork in the red goo. The boy and girl walked out together. The sun was coming up over Manhattan.