"Well... I like swimming," said Qebhet, "and reading. And... I walk? In the city?" Her diffidence leaked into her voice, giving it an uncertain inflection. She knew they weren't the most exciting of hobbies. "I like... exploring. It's amazing how you can live so long in a place and still find more to discover. And Harlem has changed so much since I was first here."
And her dead would often speak to her with such feeling of their city. There was no single New York, Qebhet had learned: every person had their own, a unique terrain overlaying a common street map, with places and landmarks coloured by memory and emotion. She listened when they talked, and, when she could, she liked to go wandering and try to perceive the places they'd loved through their eyes.