Yes. It's as though the world becomes two separate things: the river, and what lies outside the boundaries of the river. One stays the same while the other changes.

[She huffs a soft little breath, content with the weight of his head atop hers. They're carrying on openly, even brazenly, but the sun is out and that's in some ways better security than anything else they could hope for. And it's nice to have that freedom, to pretend to be nothing more than idle lovers amid the passerby — or even to be nothing more than that, for at least a little while.]

But I think with you I would want to ride the train. You would buy me a ticket; that would be different and new.