Jessica walked, slowly and deliberately at funeral procession pace. She was beyond troubled at the effect Tiffany had on her. The girl had almost plunged her back into the watery depths of blindness, and that was unforgivable.

But what had triggered it? Why did Tiffany affect her so? Jessica was not a superstitious fool. She lived in the twenty-first century for god’s sake! There had to be reasons for everything! Scientific, quatitivative, qualitative reasoning. No one had been able to explain to Jessica why she saw things the way she did, and it had been frustrating growing up with everyone around her to expect deaf, dumb and mute to be part of the whole blind package too. Jessica hadn’t been able to find the words to explain that she could ‘see’, but she had refused to believe it was ‘all in her head’. Just because it was not yet understood, doesn’t mean it’s not there. The same went for Tiffany’s effect on Jessica. There was a reason. There had to be.

Jessica was also not an . She knew Tiffany hadn’t meant to do what she did. The girl didn’t even know that the crap had hit the fan until they were both knee-deep in it! It was of no fault of Tiffany’s. There was no wrongdoing on her part. Even her parting outburst at Jessica was well founded and justified.

But Jessica had been so threatened that she had snapped back and said some things she now wished she hadn’t. Tiffany hadn’t deserved any ill will she had gotten from Jessica tonight.

Whatever. It’s all in the past now. The girl would probably want nothing more to do with her, and even if by some slim chance the girl was a saint and wouldn’t mind seeing Jessica’s face anywhere near her again, Jessica herself was definitely not prepared to deal with the consequences.

The blonde continued to wander aimlessly. But her ‘aimless’ was not our usual aimless in a sense. Her blindly trained subconscious mind was constantly keeping track as to where she was oriented in the city. Jessica had wandered the streets of New York alone for years, she knew the city like the back of her hand. In these streets, she was never lost.

After drifting restlessly for an hour, Jessica started to make her way home.

Home was a large, one flat studio. Solid redbrick building in a quieter part of the city. Cement steps with black wrought iron railings leading up to the foyer. Resounding and echoing steps to one corner of the foyer, blocked by heavyset metal doors. Elevators towards the middle of the lobby area.

Jessica never rode elevators. She much preferred stairs. And so every day, she walked the six flights of stairs to her flat on the third floor. The top floor.

Her flat was special in that it had a small balcony accessible through one of Jessica’s windows. The balcony itself had metal grated steps that led to the streets below on the side of the building. Jessica often sat on these steps, just listening to the sounds of the cit