Tonight as I sat eating my dinner, watching the Manhattan sky turn that jaundiced shade of yellow that clouds assume when they’re about to sob their contents, I saw a kite. It was far away…blocks to the east of Columbia’s campus, wobbling in the distance between two ivory towers built from brick. I imagined someone standing on a rooftop, tossing her kite up into the wind and holding the end of the line. I wondered if she had tied a key to the kite’s line, in hopes of catching a little spark.