(NYT) — A man wearing sunglasses, for once unneeded, checked a pay phone for loose change and swept across Flatbush Avenue, a cup of hot coffee in his hand, the only figure moving on that slumbering colossus of commerce at 5 a.m. on Tuesday.
Glowing green lights signaled no one to go, and the Brooklyn thoroughfare, usually a riot of bus exhaust, livery cabs and delivery trucks, was as serene as a seaside boardwalk. A breeze offered an invitation to roll down sleeves that had been furled since June. Everything was, blissfully, shade. The thermometer read 72.5.
The first 26 sweltering days and stifling nights of July had ganged up to form what most meteorologists expect to be the hottest month in New York City since records began in 1869. Tuesday’s high was 91 degrees.
