The Unspoken

On a Thursday that flirted with frostbite,New York City crouched under its own weight—steel towers, whispered winds, and the soft crunchof snow finding refuge on cobblestones. Larry, all scarf and cane, shuffled toward the subway,his breath little clouds of resignation.The old aeronautical engineer,half-pilot of his own past,still sharp enough to spot a flawed trajectory.“What’s the…