THE SUNLIGHT CAME in as if it had genuinely increased in volume, not just shifted its schedule. Glaring off the salted roadway, with the help of the wind, it raised tears from the eyes. It reached a high enough angle to pour a beam onto the subway tracks; it swelled in Amsterdam Avenue like an overflowing canal of light, seen from the shadow of the cross street. It went straight into apartments to pick out a radiator, a mirror, a floor lamp. Out in space it raised the white form of a fat daytime gibbous moon, pointing back toward it from across the sky. It even achieved a touch of warmth, despite the air being cold enough to turn scaffold drippings into a long sheet of glossy ice. Suddenly, ahead of time, it failed. The top sides of the tree branches took on a pale look, and so did the cars and the cold ground. Out of the darkening gray, snow was blowing densely down.
