Catching the Eleven O'Clock Sun

The sun hit the far corner of the balcony right around eleven. I dragged a folded yellow cloth napkin over to a warm slat of cedar, smoothed it flat, and settled back to lounge. A potted jade plant threw just enough cool shade across my eyes, leaving the rest of the heat to soak straight into bone. Down on the street, people were already bustling around with errands and heavy steps. I didn't bother looking over the railing. It was warm, entirely quiet up here, and I had nowhere else to be.