Sandra stood on the balcony and sighed, watching the street below. Her father sat and watched the sunset, taking lazy pulls on a long cigar. Her mother sat beside him, fanning herself and watching Sandra.
The heat of the day lingered, slowly released from where it had accumulated in the stone and metal parts of the city. Sandra couldn’t see it from where she stood, but sweat bled through the ratty shirts worn by the laborers returning home after their day’s work. The only thing the bled through her finely-tailored dress was boredom.
“Sandra, let’s go inside,” her mother said.