wind.

It's the kind of night where you jet downtown and meet up with your husband for a Belle and Sebastian show, despite the fact that you're not sure you like their music. You have soul food for dinner and walk back and forth to the car to drop off jackets and bags. The air is humid and cool, and your skin is dry and chill. The show is good, much better than you anticipated. Back in the car, you throw the top down and let your husband drive, winding the way home past the George Washington Bridge and across the Bronx. It's cooler than you thought, and you tilt your head back and watch as the overpasses fly by at sickening speed. Now, Belle and Sebastian are on the radio. It's that kind of night.