When Margaret opened the door and came out from the apartment's deep black space, the light of day struck her green eyes and transformed what were pea size pupils into two black dots the size of pencil lead. She locked the door with a bang and seemed to instantly grow two inches as she stood in the doorway's open shade. Taking one step forward Margaret prepared to move from the shallow front step into the street, from the cool dark into the hot light. Her hand curled up into itself, the back of her wrist resting on her right hip, a ring of four keys cupped in the nest of her fingers, Her fingers touched the plastic frog that was chained to the keys and now rested on its side, one blank eye staring up at the sky. She had the habit of picking at the frogs eyes and with time both the eyes had been rubbed out, leaving two sightless pea green circles.

The hard noon light splashed down and glided across the yellow stucco wall. It poured over the red geraniums in the second story window and dripped a messy black shadow that reached down to the top of the doorway. Margaret was motionless. She stood so close to the edge of the doorway that the skimming light from above painted her nose a bright pink, and illuminated her glossy red toes so that they peaked out like ten red capped scouts; advancing from the shadow into the unknown distance. Her hands came together and met in the light. The green frog spun in the air as it dangled from the key chain.

Having picked up the last of her things, Margaret unwound two keys from the silver ring and dropped them one at a time into Jack's mail box.

Jack heard the door close below and waited at the table a minute longer before getting up. He saw the coffee that Margaret had not finished resting on the window sill. Holding the mug on the side without the handle to avoid the crescents of lipstick that she had left behind, he swallowed the remains whole. The room was empty of her. In his boxers and socks Jack stood at the window and stuck out his head. "Tuesday" he thought..."Another Tuesday."

A faded blue car passed by and the sun reflecting off its mirrors created a bright trapezoid of light that moved like a swallow. The hot spot of light flew across the wall, first flashing on Jack's face and then diving down, penetrating into the shadows of the doorway. Like a searching spotlight it suddenly slapped Margaret in the face and continued along the wall until it dove down and around the corner.

The sun beat down on the top of Jack's head as he leaned just a little farther out the window and over the flower box, his shadow an oblong dollop of gray that melted into the geranium's dripping shadow before it slid down the wall, crossed the top of the doorway and eclipsed the sun from Margaret's nose. As if on cue she put the keyless silver ring into her bag and took one long stride that brought her all the way into the light.

Jack raised his hands to shade his eyes. Sticking his neck out even farther, his shadow flew off the wall and into the gutter. His whole body seemed to squint as his eyes tried to advance the distance, struggling to watch A neighbor's television just below his sight-line. He bent his left knee and got it up onto the window ledge, his right foot floating an inch above the gray tile floor as he tried to keep his balance.

He could now see the small television above the horizon line of a gray sofa. On the screen the floating head of an anchorman moved its lips. The anchorman stopped talking and smiled in Jack's direction. The screen changed. An image of a light gray cloud with the date inside it: "Wednesday, June 23: Light Showers." "Wednesday!" Jack gasped. "Wednesday? How did I...How did I lose a whole day? It was Monday and then...What did I miss?" Off balance he leaned to one side of the window frame as his right foot searched for the cool tile floor.

Margaret was rounding the corner, the trail of her long red skirt illuminated by the sun.

Jack turned his face toward the corner. There was a flash of red and then a shadow that faded away.