The city could be restored. When they were finished it could be something of what it had been. They would force a resemblance upon it, these new citizens come to fire up the metropolis. Their new lights pricking the blackness here and there in increments until it was the old skyline again, indigenous and defiant. The new lights seeping through the black veil like beads of blood pushing through gauze until it was suffused.
Yes, he'd always wanted to live in New York.
Colson Whitehead, Zone One (2011)
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