Daniel walked down the street, his head down and not really paying attention to the people around him. He was wearing big headphones that covered his ears, and it had a heavy wire that he tucked into his jacket. They weren't actually plugged into anything, but they took the city's edge off. He'd used ear protection before, like what people use in gun clubs, but the headphones got him a lot less attention.

Not looking around wasn't really a problem either. No one else was looking around. So long as Daniel stayed on the right side of the sidewalk, it was pretty simple to just move with the flow. Even in the spring or summer when the crowds really swelled he could just trudge along and not bother with anything.

And this was the best time of year. The first snow had dumped its dirty slush on everything a couple of days ago, and even though the streets were dry again, and everyone who could stayed inside. And the people who did come out moved fast. Daniel clenched his jaw for a moment as a subway train rattled away underneath the street where he was walking. That noise never went away.

Winter was also pleasant because even when the sun came out, it was thin and watery, and by the time it filtered down through the tall buildings Daniel could almost pretend it wasn't a problem. Even the terrible fog was less of an issue in the cold. Daniel liked to think there was less of it, but he didn't really have a way to measure anything. Whatever the reason, it never felt like it was piercing his eyes the way it did in the summer.

Daniel crossed the street, he was only a couple of blocks away from work now. He paused though, looking ahead, and stopped at the corner. It took a minute to wait for the light, but he crossed again, continuing his way on the opposite side of the street. He clenched his fists, some guy in a Santa suit was clanging a cheap brass bell. Each little peal made his fingers twitch, even with the headphones Daniel had to force himself to cross by the guy across the road.

Some days, Daniel wished he'd been able to get a driver's license. Not that he needed to drive here, but maybe living in a suburb somewhere would have been better. Quieter at least. But thanks to the seizures he'd had as a teen, he had a medical hold that kept him from driving. Never mind that the medication worked well enough that he'd been fine for the last fifteen years.

But there'd probably be problems no matter where he lived. He wasn't sure if the fog was really better in the winter, but he knew for sure the fog was worse outside the city. Visiting his parents felt like torture, even if Long Island was quieter. Here, he could almost ignore the cars passing by. Out there each car felt like it was driving through his skull from one eardrum to the other.

No, he was just grumpy that he had to come to work a bit early today. Some new exhibits were going up, and the curator was holding a meeting to talk about how to take care of them. And that was fine, Mr. Afolabi was pretty straightforward. It wasn't hard to remember what got dusted, what cleaners were ok where, and so forth, but reminders were a good thing. Especially if something new was coming in. Daniel was pretty happy with his job and really didn't want to have to hunt for something else that fit so well. He especially didn't want to be known as the guy who'd scrubbed out the wrong bucket.

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Usually, he went to work late enough in the evening that the streets were relatively clear, but today he was moving through rush hour crowds. All the bankers and financial types and other assorted people in suits were on their daily migrations from their tall over-lit offices to their dank under-lit bars and clubs. It was impossible to walk without brushing shoulders and hearing inane chatter on phones.

Finally, he was able to reach the little shelter outside the museum. Daniel paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to center himself. He didn't want to look all irritated and discombobulated when he walked inside. The cold air was nice, it seemed to draw the tension out of him before it could collect as sweat, and the sear of icy air in his lungs cut ahead of most other sensations going on. A person would be forgiven for not noticing a museum here. Other than a lack of windows, it looked like most of the other office and apartment buildings throughout Manhattan. And even that could be forgiven, plenty of buildings had windows disguised to look like sheer walls.

He took one more deep breath and then Daniel checked that his badge was visible on the outside of his jacket, and finally, he ducked into the museum. He nodded at security and made his way through one of the more popular galleries. The little locker room where he kept his gear was just through it. He mostly didn't even look at the artwork on the walls anymore. Just like out on the streets, he kept his eyes down, focused more on his footsteps than his surroundings. Nonetheless, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. This was a permanent exhibit, and nothing ever got changed in here. Some change made him stop and look around.

There, right there. On one of the most important paintings the museum held, someone had defaced the art. The cozy church and its swirling stars and night sky had been painted on, with bright, luminescent paint. How had they ever done that? The painting wasn't exactly dull, but the graffiti shone like someone had painted with LEDs. It made the colors underneath look muddy and faded. And somehow the vandals had done it without even being noticed. Daniel glanced around, he saw a couple stop to look at the painting. They were clearly on their way toward the front doors and had stopped to admire the painting. The woman gushed about how much she loved this painting, and how she used to have a print in her dorm room, but neither of them mentioned the vandalism.

Daniel shook his head and looked closer. In bright pure blue colors, someone had scrawled on the masterpiece. Words Daniel could read easily.

> You're not crazy, and the fog is real. Call us, or write us, and we can help.

There was a number and email address written there too, but Daniel hardly noticed. The blue light called to him, and he felt something growing in the depths of his mind. He glanced at his watch, he was still early. Even the words barely seemed worth his attention. No, he knew the blue light.

Daniel started walking again, passing through the museum without really seeing anything. In a moment he found his favorite piece, one of the only things he ever really looked at. The brass statue didn't hold a tarnish or patina and it gleamed like gold. It wasn't terribly large, but it had always drawn Daniel. It stood as still as any sculpture, but looking at it made Daniel feel like dancing. The way it twisted and flowed made it look like the Italian sculptor had captured some spirit mid-flight. Daniel looked without really seeing the sculpture, just feeling the pressure build, and build. Finally, he couldn't stop himself and he stretched his arms out. The fog in the room shifted, blue light flowing and gathering around his hands.

It hadn't been his imagination. It was real, the blue light was real.

And, with just a bit more reach, so was the sculpture.