Neige Noir

New York's Winter was like an old dog. Sure, he wasn't long for this world, but he still had teeth. And that street-smart mutt knew just how to use them.

Ice cold rain and snow slew down flashing orange and grey under the street lights, making everything dirty, everything close, and wet, too real.

Night and Winter closed everything down. The lights of Manhattan were lost through the teeth of the dying dog, and a battered out of town SUV was beating out a staccato horn as the snow and rain set off its alarm, over and over again.

It was a hard night. Not a night to be out.
But we all know about nights like that in New York, don't we.

My partner turned to me.
"Are you coming?"
"No," I said. "Yes."
"Come on, I'm going to be a vigilante for justice," said my partner. "What shall I wear?"