Going on a walk would be nice, I thought around 4pm. I gathered my things, with the goal of spending some time reading by the river, and set out on foot.
By ten minutes in, my body began to whine about the heat I was dragging it through, the heat that had the same muting effect of a recent snowfall. Except no part of this atmospheric extreme made you want to snuggle up with a mug of Earl Grey. My pores had sprung leaks. Keep your blood cool? My fingers puffed with indignation at this demand.
I checked my thoughts when I passed a group of girls in green and yellow volleyball uniforms cheering over a scored point. Ok, so this eternal summer just takes some getting used to. I parked my sweaty self in the plaza, at the halfway point between origin and original ambition. Relief was minimal: the concrete bench had soaked up all the day’s sol. But the walk back was easier.