The sun streamed through the bedroom window and door that led to a Juliet balcony. She pulled the pillow over her head and groaned. What time was it? How long had she slept? When she thought her eyes could bear it, she lifted the pillow from her head and sat up.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “It looks like summer.”
Indeed, butter yellow sunlight drenched the room, so bright it glowed, making the hardwood floors shine so brilliantly, they were almost like mirrors. Dust motes played in the shafts of light coming in through the mini blinds. The room was warm, almost stuffy, yet Jess could not hear the clank or hiss of the radiators.
Outside, birds sang. An El train rumbled by, and Jess heard the mechanical voice call out, “Howard. Howard next. End of the line. All passengers must exit the train
