Downtown

It was almost romantic, standing beside the window in his darkened apartment, staring out at the city while soft piano music played in the background. Of course, the dim glow out of the corner of his eye came from his laptop instead of candlelight, and his neck was craned at an awkward angle so he could catch a glimpse of the fireworks hailing the end of the annual city arts festival, so it still wasn't quite romantic.

Downtown Omaha from the fringes from the north side of Dodge, on a night like this, looked like someone had carved a piece of Victorian London of the past and dumped it down in the middle of the plains. Then giant hands had rearranged it to form a semi-neat grid and smeared it in golden light. The rooftops were flat and even, punctuated in spots by the highrise buildings of the banks and law firms that corroded the downtown skyline. Most of the buildings were old brick with high, roman-arch windows. They were old factories and warehouses remodeled into stylish studio apartments with sky-high rent and starving students lounging on the stairwells, trading talk about Heidigger and the latest college world series game.

Some cities were modern halogen-bright, stark with blue-white light cutting into the dingy shadows that crept alongside decrepit buildings, but Omaha had older lights, golden and warmer, if a bit foggy on a humid Sunday night. Edges of buildings and billboards looked softer, almost dream-like.

If he squinted just right, he could see the sudden dip in the even rooftop world, like a black hole had clawed up through the bottom of the pseudo chimney-sweep universe and swept away the singing Dick Van Dykes. The county jail was over there, right in the middle of downtown next to the world-class performing arts center modeled after some fancy Viennese institution.

The fireworks echoed across the sky like gunshots, lit up the factory-ancient roofs, and for a moment, a dull city night was colorful.