Blackstone and the Wolf of Wall Street

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Though he was desperate to complete his mission before he lost his nerve, Knox forced himself to take only small, careful steps as he made his way slowly along Fifth Avenue.

There was good reason for this caution. The weak sun had struggled to bring a little cheer into the shivering city during the day, but the second it had been vanquished over the horizon, the pitiless winter had returned with a vengeance.

Now, the sun’s pale warmth seemed no more than a distant memory — a rumour that, once, times had been better. Now, frost clung mockingly to the lamp posts and patches of black ice began to form across the sidewalk.

Black ice!

Damn it to hell.

You couldn’t see it, because it was almost transparent.

You couldn’t guess where it might be, because it did not spread itself evenly, but instead chose to lurk in isolated spots, waiting with malevolent patience for the unsuspecting foot to fall on it.

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