The streets of New York were wet with melted snow this time of year. Drains smoked with condensing water vapor. The salt on the streets was the only thing keeping the pavement from holding a hockey game. Despite the deepest prayers from the inhabitants of the city more snow was falling, great white flakes, larger than a fifty-cent piece. Big fluffy flakes that gathered like cotton in the alleyways in small corners, places where the neither heat nor wind could get to. Cars shuttled along the streets, mostly cabs and expensive luxury models. This was the area where shabby people owned the smaller street shops. Where street venders braved weather far below freezing just to make a buck. Even though it was going on two in the morning an unprecedented about of people were still on the street.