it's like the city itself is mugging you, reaching up from behind with a towel drenched in formaldehyde. except that instead of formaldehyde it's all of the air, wet and hot and incapacitating, urging your blood to slow down, just a little. just a little more. three flights of stairs and i'm panting, knees shaking and knowing that today it isn't really so bad.

but the air slowly gathers itself into rain and lisps down like a benediction, and the trees sigh with it and the windows fog. and i can lick my lips and taste it and know i am alive.