I adjusted my collar and put my hand on my hat before walking out from the alcove that was the entrance to my building. The magical fires from the torches lit the street, paying no mind to the wind and the rain. I didn’t pay the weather much heed, either. It was a dark and stormy night that had lasted more than five hundred years. I didn’t have to think about adjusting my collar or securing my hat. It is just something we all learn to do as we grow up. We protect ourselves from the wind and the rain. Most folks cast a simple spell to deal with the weather, of course, but I can’t do that. They call me “Jack the Magicless,” and I’m a detective.

Those little things we do naturally and without thought are very important in our lives. There have been times when I was thinking about a case when I fixed supper, ate it, cleaned the dishes, and then realized I had no real memory of what I had eaten. These actions become all part of a routine, and we don’t pay them any more attention than we pay to the weather. What’s it like outside? It’s a dark and stormy night. What will it be like outside tomorrow? It will be a dark and stormy night. What will it be like outside next week? It will be a dark and stormy night. What will it be like outside next year? It will be a dark and stormy night. We don’t have to think about these things once we get used to them. They become part of the background of life. But every once in a while, something brings them to the foreground.