Autumn Heat Wave
Opening the freezer the blast of cool air rushes over her shocking her system. The sweat on her forehead momentarily stops streaming down her face, where it's been pooling in the crook of her collarbone. So much sweat. She's a human salt lick, the dog can't get enough of her. Every time she lays down on the ceramic floor he slobbers along the length of her arms and legs til she gathers enough energy to shove him across the tile and out of range. It's supposed to be autumn but this freak heat wave is more reminiscent of Chennai in January than Winnipeg in October. It can't be good. Everyone on the block struggles to replace the air conditioners they packed away 4 weeks earlier and trees that are crusty with dried up burnt orange foliage are starting to bud again. If this is what menopause is like Darcy's moving to Alaska. There are more men up there anyway. Four to one ratio, she heard. Maybe when she hits 50 she'll pick a winner. Lord knows she's a total...