It was foolish of him to think that the rest of the month would be like this. It was a rare and beautiful sunny April day in Chicago. The light from the slow setting sun made him squint while walking home to his apartment.
His sunglasses were still tucked in a bag from a quick trip he took last month down South to research what it felt like to be warm again. He hadn't needed them since. Days like this only tease everyone in the city of the ones to come. Those fast perfect summer days that fly by in the blink of an eye.
He unlocked his door and hung up the jacket he carried across his arm all afternoon, it would probably be needed tomorrow. A drink sounded nice but he didn't have time to mess around so it would have to be something simple and light. He wanted to catch the last bit of sunlight up on the roof.
In a tall glass, he clanked in a few pieces of ice and added a heavy pour of golden Lillet Blanc. He tossed in a couple of peels from both a lemon and an orange and then topped up the glass with clear fizzy tonic water. The peels looked like a pair of goldfish swimming in a bittersweet bowl.
The roof deck faced East so he got to watch the sunset in the reflection of the tall buildings that bordered the lake. Shadows from the towering structures lengthened every second out into the water like another city below the surface. He clicked on his beat-up yellow AM transistor radio that mostly picked up static. Every now and then on evenings like this, a baseball score made it through the noise.
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Bar To Home
A simple translation from bar to home.