From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sight
The winter wind bites right through my heavy wool coat as I pass the newsstand, where headlines of vicious pony attacks and strange new escalators make my head spin. My word, the world is moving too fast; even the gas for the lamps has climbed to a staggering $0.10 a gallon, and I fear my pockets won't hold out much longer. High-collared silhouettes blur past me under the flickering hiss of the streetlamps, women clutching their lace parasols against the sleet like shields. Everything feels precarious today, from the soaring price of fuel to the way the horses eye the crowds with a new, wild resentment.