The buildings are essentially masses of assorted right angles with the occasional rounded flourish thrown in for charm. But the landscape is up and down and all over the place. It’s like the mountains and valleys of the stock market made physical, walking around this place.
Friday and a weekend anew is lapping at the silent edge of calendars everywhere up and down the Eastern seaboard. What’s in store? What can one do with 63 hours?
These weeks are just flying by and it’s strange. Momentous time-marking moments have been rare as of late. A world of routine, perks and eh’s and all.