19:08 · rain · sixth borough
the throat of the city, raining into itself. people go down with their collars raised and come up with a different weather on their shoulders. the rain is not heavy, only steady, and steady is harder to refuse.
one woman stops on the top step. she is not lost. she is calculating whether to go back for an umbrella she has just remembered or to descend now and be done. the calculation lasts the length of a footstep and she descends.
field note: the yellow M is reflected in a puddle as a yellow nothing, broken by the next drop.