<em>The 13th Precinct, on 13th street, and cursed... it's like someone came up with this great cosmic joke to play on the city.</em>Gina Morgan mused, arms wrapped around herself and shoulders hunched against the cold. She knew she was early, far too early for her shift, but she couldn't bear to stay home any longer, knowing she was going to start one what she'd been working toward for three years and hoping toward for several more.<br/><br/>It was late for most places, but not for a city like New York; even on a weekday, half eight was just the start of the night for many people, as the late afternoon lull of people having gone home from work changed to the increased foot traffic of those same folks going out for the evening. None of the passersby seemed to be paying her attention, nor the precinct building, and it took a while for her to notice that, whether consciously or no, many of them crossed to the other side of the street, rather than passing directly in front of the building.<em>Curious...</em><br/><br/>She moved into the lee of the steps, out of the wind, her attention fixing for a while on those passing by as night drew down into the city, not entirely kept away by the glare of street lights, car lights, window lights... all the artifice of illumination that humans create.