You write with such wonderful details--this is wonderful:

Under electric lights day turned to night unannounced

I loved that the book was red and I could almost feel it in my hands reading this:

the leather was old and faded. Indentations of letters with the occasional fleck of gold were all that remained of the title and author, still readable but only just.

It's interesting to think that while they were still fleeing for their lives, there must have been so much time like this dealing with mundane, yet essential, details.