Chapter Six: Andre

Chapter Six

ANDRE

Andre watched the snow fall.

It had been falling for days by now, unendingly. Silently it fell, at first, then it gathered momentum, tumbling down in straight lines. It soon became an torrent that pressed down on the people below, shoving their parasols with the wind that accompanied it, pounding the roof of cars, of cafés and restaurants and the awnings of bookstores.

New York. A clutter of tall structures and old trees and hurrying people. Even when it was silent here, it was loud. While daytime was a carnival of colours, the night was one colour. Grey. It was all grey. Even with all the lights shining in the numerous apartments across the city, the colour grey prevailed.

Andre liked the enveloping darkness, relished it. He came here every other night to look down at the grey city—even if were raining, or snowing, as it was now.

The building at the top of which he stood was tall, quaint, sandwiched between a store and a block of residential buildings. Andre had