★ There had been, at bedtime, one bright planet or star in the sky, but when the alarm went off before 3 a.m., all there was to be seen in the west was the quotidian rust-red glow of city lights off the cloud cover. Little lighter-orange bits of cloud blew along under the main mass. Could the moon, entering its eclipse, still possibly be discernible, maybe off behind a building? It was not worth going out into the dark to see. Certainly by dawn, the clouds were not even admitting a glimpse of the sun. Light rain dampened the dull scenery; people bothered with umbrellas, out of something less than necessity. The humidity was stifling. The office toilet tank was sweating up to the fill line. Outside was stuffy and chilly at the same time. Night fell and it rained harder, splatting against building. Then there were rumors, confirmed by sticking a hand out the window into the darkness: something cold and fluffy was falling. Gray snowfall or sleetfall blurred the view. Here was a phenomenon, after all.