Chapter 3The next morning, I lay in bed for a long time, hoping the sleep that had eluded me the night before would come back once Ernie left, like a wily lover slipping into bed after the husband has left for work.
But sleep didn’t come. And I rose to see our huge glass wall smeared with rain. Lightning flashed, followed a few seconds later by the low roar of thunder. Feeling like a zombie and that I actually was sleepwalking, I forced myself from bed and slogged the long journey (all fifteen or so steps) to the kitchen, where Ernie had thoughtfully left a half pot of coffee, still warm. I poured myself a mug, moved to the window and stared down at the pedestrians as I sipped. Those without umbrellas moved, naturally, a lot faster than the ones who were lucky enough to have them.
A flas
