The city had turned cold during the night and dawn poured in off the lake as a pale lightless gray. By now everybody else in the band would have retreated to the Cursèd Place to go to ground before the sun came up but I was wide awake and sober and not yet ready to plunge back into the shambles of my life.
I left Melody’s place and took the L into downtown where I drifted through the Loop searching for direction that I wasn’t sure was going to come. The drumbeat of morning commuters had not yet started and the city seemed to be holding its breath. I wandered out to the middle of the Wabash Avenue Bridge and stared down into the green water below. The morning chill had cast a shroud of mist across the river, and ghostly fingers swept over the water in a come-hither gesture.
Jump whispere
