★★★★ The sparkling morning was almost as good as it had looked from the windows: the color of the sky was getting deeper; ample light arrived from multiple directions. Sun and shade were mutually unviewable from one another, the retina over- or underexposed. A stretch of wire, otherwise invisible against the sky, flashed white and straight like a fighter jet's contrail. Wet manhole covers were knobby mirrors. Maybe it was a little hot out, in all that sun. A little. It was not a concern a few hours later, in the blue cross streets, dimming before sunset. Nor in the night, past 9, with the sidewalk tables along Broadway full and clinking. One movie-length later, they were still full and clinking, at the restaurant that hadn't closed.
Thursday, September 5th, 2013