It is now day. Tom is bicycling in a leisurely way beside the Hudson River. One of the panniers on the bicycle has a scoped .22 rifle in it.
The weather is pleasant and the air is clear, but not crystal clear. There is no human air pollution, but there is still forest-generated air pollution and humidity, which keep the visibility down to about three miles.
Once again, there are no people but Tom, and once again the area looks like it was cleaned up and carefully mothballed before it was abandoned.
Tom stops to rest and survey the view, then notices us, the readers.
Oh, you’re back.
He looks around again.
So peaceful.
He points across the river to an island. On the island is what for all the world looks to be a large, narrow cardboard box standing vertically.
See that? Inside that is the Statue of Liberty. Amazing, isn’t it? The people of New York got inspired to really make this place last.
He looks back at us, appraisingly.
But you’re not here for that. You’re here to hear more of my story, right?
OK, I’ll tell you more as I head back for lunch. It’s not like I have a lot of other pressing issues.