★ Dull and a little raw. Banging from the construction site carried clearly under the cloud cover. Something crunched under a passing tire, sending the pigeons scattering from the street up to the shelter of the back side of a Trump building. The sun was a metallic smear among the clouds for a while, and then it wasn’t even that. In the afternoon there was a rumor of sunshine out the windows, but there was nothing to substantiate it later on. Some sort of fluff was in the air, and the drifting bits kept looking impossibly but not implausibly like snow.