These Dreams of You

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To Parker, the endless survey and rejection of hotels this evening — it wasn’t really endless, only four or five, but seemed endless to the boy — wasn’t unlike watching a cab crash into the same limo over and over. It’s an old part of town where they are now, and the dreariness he feels is compounded by the sight not so far away of the Potsdamer Platz at its most ultra-modern; once the no-man’s land of the Wall before monied victors of the Cold War like Sony and Mercedes moved in, it hovers in their room’s window taunting them.