Blog

My first day and I’m wearing the black wing tips—Alfanis. Been in the box since Brooks Financial, but I polished them up last night so they shined like eight balls. Had Ellen run an iron over my gray tweed. She hung it next to the bed before we slept.

I wake up early. Beat the alarm by two hours. Can’t go back to sleep so I watch the sun rise over the park and gnaw on a day-old bagel from the Carnegie.

Around seven, I toss a bottle of Evian in my briefcase and dodge the morning dog-walkers on...

There’s a single moment for a raindrop, when it breaks free from the granite sky and pelts the glass beside my bed in one fat slop. It hangs there as a perfect, crystalline globe. And it twinkles. A sort of playful wink before it takes the final descent. An abrupt, rolling slither that leaves a trail of liquefied dignity—its legacy. Then it soaks into the sill, its watermark having been noticed. Acknowledged.

Such dignity doesn’t afford itself to just any raindrop. It doesn’t show itself in...