Excerpt:

We rode a pair of bicycles a few miles into the heart of New Denver. The world was quiet except for the calls of the birds and the nervous chatter of squirrels. We saw a field of wind turbines in the distance, once. We got lost in a few spots—neither one of us were originally from Denver and we still didn't know the old city very well, and in any case most of the landmarks we did know were now unrecognizable. We found our way through trial and error, and by early afternoon were sitting in a well-maintained cafe that had remained more or less unchanged since our last visit. The wallpaper was different, and whoever had owned her last Block had decorated her with an abundance of potted plants. The fridge was stocked, there were computer terminals for use ("Customers Only, Please"), and she was clean.