New York City, May 10, 2015

★★★ Sticky fog came in through the open windows. On the night air there had been sirens and a soprano, but by day there was just the stickiness, even as the fog visibly faded and gaps of blue opened in the glating sky. The peanut-butter bonbons were slumping out of shape. The clouds and the world below cohered and came into focus. Street-fair smells traced the way along Columbus. The three-year-old would stare so intently at motorcycles in traffic that he wod walk headfirst into a scaffolding pole. The stove was hot enough to say one was slaving over it. A man — a first tenant? — walked barefoot along the roof deck of the not-quite-finished apartment tower and sat down on one of the newly arrived blue outdoor couches, with a bottle of something the color of rosé and two glasses. He hunched forward in the sunlight, leaning over his moble device.