New York City, May 5, 2016

★ Was it dark again? It was dark again. Was it raining? Did the blowing drizzle count? Was it possible even to care about whether the blowing drizzle would amount to rain? Even in the windowless bathroom the weight of the darkness seemed to be pressing down. Outside, the drizzle seemed to stop. The wind was gusting harder than it had been gusting on other days. That was a difference, a tiny one but a real one; the pavement was genuinely dry. How small could an improvement be without becoming a mockery of an improvement? Here was the four-year-old, running furious laps through the kitchen and living room. He could go downstairs in this and burn off energy, at least, scrambling up over encrusted bird droppings to jump off the low brick wall. Someone could enjoy it a little.