In the days after the primary, Pittsburgh fell into a strange political vacuum.
On paper, Martin Carter Wright was still the city's Mayor.
His term would last until the end of the year, his name was still printed on the letterhead of every document from City Hall, and his portrait still hung in the hallways of various government departments.
But in reality, ever since leaving through the back door on that rainy night, Carter Wright had not set foot in the Mayor's Office again.
The City Hall staff came to work as usual every day, clocking in, drinking coffee, and processing the endless stream of trivial paperwork.
But everyone knew in their hearts that the largest office on the third floor was now empty.
Although Carter Wright was still symbolically handling official business elsewhere, the central nervous system of power had stopped pulsing. The enormous bureaucratic machine was like a colossal ship that had lost its engine, drifting on the water on sheer momentum alone.
