By monkus

The five day forecast a warning of unbroken heat, dehydration and heatstroke upon the menu for the day. The temperature's meant to be hitting 35 by 1000 and staying there until 1700, real feel stretching up into the mid forties. Not a day for a walk then, I think as I slurp upon the second eiskaffee of the morning, watching the pallid blue sky stretch out cloudless and faded.

A day of catching up with indoor things, restless with frustrations and unsteady progress. Thoughts about using the gym, wishing that it was possible to go for a swim. A late afternoon wander up through the shadowed paths of the local hills, deciding to take the bus rather than cycle into the centre, manipulating paths through busy buildings, the route guided by the presence of air con rather than straight lines.

Night fallen, figures gathered around tables, glasses glinting with the reflection of light upon ice. The sky's clear, hazy stars glimmering upon the heat rising from the city, a warm wind blowing the scent of incense, catching flames rising from braziers and illuminating the dance of the faithful, their offerings fuelling their bright tongues.

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