I get an excellent view of the city atop my penthouse perch. I can make out the throngs as they rush about their daily lives. The cars zoom or crawl past the bottom of my building, depending on the time of day. I'm luckier than a lot of my brethren, some of whom face an alleyway, or the polluted Hudson River. But my favorite thing to watch is the wolves. Have you heard about the wolves?
They say they live somewhere in the sewers. They say they come out of an opening in the ground, a tunnel of sorts, somewhere in central park. That's how they sneak up to the city streets long after dusk has fallen. What they say is true. I have seen the wolves with my own eyes. The leader of the pack appears when the moon is at its apex. He sneaks out first to check if its safe for the others. He sniffs around, then raises his head to the moon and howls. The others then rush to join him. They gather for a moment, as if deciding where to run tonight. Then they take off. A pack of wolves running down Central Park West. It is a sight to be seen indeed.
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