Copless

This park is not copless, so please don't go topless.

It was about two and a half miles from our house to the center of our little village, and by the time I'd finished sluicing across lawns and hydroplaning over the copless streets, I was a single, giant molecule of water as I stepped into the ice cream parlor with the famous name.

Back in Manhattan meatspace, what she ends up doing is somehow passing through the shadowy copless cross streets to Tenth Avenue and finding headed uptown a curb-to-curb abundance of lighted alphanumerics on cheerful yellow rooftops […].