Lady Day

Like scripture, Billie brayed away in the background, promising the difference of a new day. Given the last twenty-four little hours Roz had experienced, she was willing to try. Forget waking up and padding downstairs for coffee. It’d be excruciating. And lunch time? Still too raw. Maybe she’d feel better by dinner, or after her post-prandial run around the darkened streets. That’s it; the darkness would do it. She liked to run at night and imagine she was underwater. Those sections of sidewalk illuminated by the street lamps were the shoals. The dark spots required more trust, a sure foot.