New York City, September 30, 2015
★★ Drops were on the windows, but the showers had stopped in time for the trip to school. Only out in the sweltering hallway did it become clear how much the air conditioners had been doing. More rain fell and stopped. Over the brick forecourt it was dripping, or still raining, or beginning to rain once more. On the benches were new wet spots, or old wet spots slow to dry. A bright circle in the clouds, not the sun but an indication of the sun, was reflected in a gutter puddle. In between the noises of the Times Square BMT platform came the patter of falling water. Downtown the crosshatching of the metal stair treads had been impressed into trampled soggy newspaper. Back uptown, in the time it took to finish early pre-K checkout, the wind kicked up from the river and carried a chill. In the mirror, the end of each strand of hair was hooking upward like the handle of a cane. It had gotten cool enough for the rain jacket, but there was no new rain. The ice cream truck was still out on the corner.