After
heating up her Lean Cuisine, Rosalie debated watching reruns of The Office,
as had become her routine. But sitting alone in Gran’s sad little room wasn’t
something she wanted to do. Instead, she picked up one of the chairs from
outside her room and walked along the building with it.
Facing the
street from the front of the hotel, the sky was vermillion and fuchsia and
gold, as though all the colors the sun sucked from the earth during the day
were concentrated and projected into the sky for one glorious hour, saturated
past their previous glory.
But Rosalie
took her chair behind the hotel, into the shade, staring out at the dusty
shrubs and the skyline where the sky was faded lavender and ashy gray. The
desert stretched out before her, completely still, almost lifeless sa
