“Get pissed. Lose control for once in your pristine little life!”“What seems to be the problem?” a female voice squawked out of the small speaker below the buttons. Jeremy turned and pushed a button to reply. “I will give you a dollar for every minute you leave us alone.” He was serious.“You have 30 minutes,” the female squawk sounded hushed. He smiled and came back over to me. I couldn’t believe what was happening.“Oh, hell no! You aren’t keeping me up here for 30 minutes,” I went to try for the buttons but he caught me and pushed me up against the rail again. “What are you so afraid of, huh?” He spun me around and forced me to look at the never ending night beyond the glass. “Jeremy, please!” I begged him as I felt my heartbeat pounding in my ears. He pushed his body against the back of mine. He reached up under the skirt of my dress and ran his fingers up my inner thigh. “Just feel it. Let yourself go,” he coaxed and he let his fingers run over the wet spot in my panties. I felt. Huge piles of rubbish cover the rocks, stretching out over the slime. The apartment dumpsters don't have far to go to be emptied. Through the trash, some clambering over the rocks, some knee deep in the muck, figures are moving, bending, picking, filling black trash bags. She tries to imagine being down there, bending in the heat with no chance of rest or cool air ever.A taxi pulls up to the curb below, a foreshortened European man climbs out, her face lifts with hope. He helps a darker asian woman out of the car. There is the faint slam of the door. Hope drains and she looks away despondently.She looks toward the city. She watches another plane drop to the hight of the office towers, its shadow speeds, warping like a fever over the shining flats. She can just faintly hear the scream of its engines.The heat is a suffocating blanket. She steps back inside the apartment and shivers in comfort.She moves about. In one glass cabinet there's a lone glass stoppered carafe of red wine..
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