New York City, December 13, 2017

★★★ A mastiff was wearing a suspiciously human-cut Nordic sweater. The air had been harsh and frosty even inside the lobby; outside it was a little painful to breathe. Only a dry salt crust remained where the playground snow had been. There was no way to wear as many clothes inside the apartment as it was necessary to wear outdoors. The sparse and mobile early morning clouds became a lid of gray, and then that in turn blew away, leaving the afternoon completely clear. Brilliant highlights flared at the tops of buildings—far away from the deep and heavy shadows in the streets. It was hard to separate the effects of the air from the dry cough developing down in the chest.