New York City, September 19, 2016
[No stars] Sounds of rain came on in the night. The morning air was suffocating. More rain began to fall as the kindergarteners and their parents lined up and squeezed toward the door for the rainy-day dropoff protocol. One adult’s umbrella in the crush poured water on the back of someone’s shirt two adults away. While the rain kept falling, the rain jacket was uncomfortably hot; as soon as the rain paused around midday, it was chilly enough to wish for the rain jacket on again. The rain returned. A tour bus rolled down the avenue with its cargo of loosely plastic-wrapped tourists. The last light of the ruined day came on as a ridiculous lavender glow overpowering everything, then deepened to an impossible fresh-blood red.