I never thought I would see this city sleep. Sitting on top of a building that’s over 100 years old. Rusty gutters and fire escapes wrap around the walls like dying vines. Bricks discolored and crumbled, holding the building upright. 25 stories high, feet dangling, wind at my back. Ahead of me, the Brooklyn Bridge stands like an ancient creature standing half submerged in the dark river. My watch starts beeping, 12 am. I opened my phone and clicked the button labeled “Good Night”. One by one, the lights disappear, until a peaceful darkness falls over the city. Finally quiet.