NEW YORK — A decade ago, I was a writer living in Manhattan and my editor loved my writing style.

I wrote a weekly column called “My Big Break” and I did some TV work.

In 2006, I wrote an article about the Brooklyn Bridge and the iconic tower, which has been in the news ever since the Brooklyn Nets and Netscape sued over a $1.8 billion lawsuit that claimed the building was too large.

The article said that Brooklyn Bridge would cost $1 billion to demolish.

I felt like I’d hit the jackpot.

I was right.

The Brooklyn Bridge was done and the towers were going up.

It was a win-win.

And the tower’s price was just a fraction of the original price.

When the towers opened in 2007, I went to the Brooklyn Museum and bought a piece of history.

Afterward, I realized that I had no idea what I was getting into when I bought the building.

It wasn’t a story I’d been expecting.

As I drove up to the museum, the tower looked as if it was about to go up.

But then, I turned onto a nearby highway and I realized I was going to be in Brooklyn for an hour.

I’d drive into Brooklyn for a few hours and drive back.

The only thing that mattered was that I got to see the tower.

My editor told me, “You can stay in this building, but I want to tell you this: I want you to know you’re going to miss this building.”

I said, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

My agent was on my side and I was happy.

I was staying at a nice, modern building with a view.

I had my own desk and a bathroom.

And I was able to spend my day in a room with my daughter.

At the time, I didn’t know that New York was an expensive city.

When I went out to dinner, I’d get $300 a person for the entire meal.

I knew I wasn’t getting anything in return, so I went into the restaurant and ordered a steak with shrimp.

I ordered shrimp because it was the best thing I’d ever had.

Then, one night, I sat in the lobby and I felt the building’s elevator begin to descend.

I got up and walked into the lobby, hoping that my daughter would come to my room.

But instead, I saw a large man with a beard and a white baseball cap walking toward me.

I couldn’t believe what I saw.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the elevator.

He said, “You need to go home.” I said,  “What?” 

He said: “Get on your knees and pray.”

I had to tell him I was just about to leave, so he gave me my keys and I headed back down the elevator shaft.

That was it.

Soon, my daughter was in bed.

She was terrified.

I didn.

I went upstairs to check on her and I noticed the building had fallen on top of her.

She screamed and ran out of the room.

When she came back downstairs, she was sobbing.

I could see the pain on her face and she was crying even more.

I said to my agent, “That’s a blessing.”

He told me it was just like the story of Jonah.

You can’t go back.

What happened to the building?

In 2008, the Brooklyn Borough President proposed to demolishing the tower and replacing it with a park.

But the building didn’t go away.

When the towers closed, a group of residents who had been displaced by the construction decided to buy the building from the developers and re-open it.

After several years, the building finally sold for $1 million.

There are about 400 apartments in the building, which is a small piece of the city, and a number of other buildings around the city.

In 2017, the City of New York awarded the Brooklyn Bridges Foundation $3.2 million in repairs and other repairs to the bridge, which now houses the Museum of Modern Art.

I visited the site, and there was a small park with a fountain, but it was empty.

It looked like a lot of people had moved on.

There was a fountain and it was filled with water, so people could drink and relax.

We decided to stay a little longer.

When we went back, the place was quiet and empty.

We took a walk down the street.

I saw people playing football and baseball, but there was nothing else to do.

Then, we saw a group playing a game on a large screen.

They were playing basketball.

We looked at each other and we knew we could do better.

We called my husband and said, “Let’s do it.”