2
Arsen
I stand by the window of the Belvedere Hotel penthouse suite, looking out at the sunrise. Well, it’s not really the sunrise any longer. It’s officially the morning, as the sunlight blossoms over the oak trees on St. Charles Avenue. As I watch the street below, a streetcar stops, letting people off and picking a few up.
The Belvedere penthouse is only ten stories, so I sip my coffee and look down on the people below like some kind of demigod. A few people are up and moving this way or that, crossing the street to get to their service industry jobs. Maybe coming back from late-night employment in the French Quarter, who knows.
Behind me, Fiore stirs in the bed. I turn my head and look at her, but she’s still just a lump beneath the covers. I slept in the other room for a few hour
