Smack! The middle of May and all of the protective shielding from the land of cool and moist has been burned away. Heat radiates from the softened asphalt, clinging to my drooping pace.
Hot city grime comes creeping up my legs, finding the salt of my earth, each stride met with thermal updraft.
The new straw broad-brimmed holds yards of hair and shades burning blackened shoulders, but nothing shields the ears or cushions the blare of a downtown five star alarm.
The blasting sirens, fire trucks led by ambulance, haul through mid-town traffic.
Babies in strollers instinctively cover their ears. They rock back and forth, wailing their own alarm, tiny stars suspended inches above the swelter.