New York City, November 12, 2015

★★★ A motorcycle turned onto the avenue, crossing in front of a jackhammer, as the clouds held a lid on the whole rumbling soundscape. The four-year-old anchored his rain jacket by the hood and the right sleeve, leaving the other sleeve dangling so as not to shift his grip on his comic book. A shower passed, leaving a new damp weight on the chill. By midafternoon, the character of the light had changed, and the part of the clouds directly overhead was thinning toward blue. The gloom would not readily let go, but in the night a new wind shook the windows and wailed in the hollows of the building.