III. The heat
12am, and it was still 85 degrees. Two fans ran on high, positioned at opposite ends of my apartment, but not a lick of wind it seemed. There were only so many cold showers, only so dark one could keep the room. From my fire escape, I thought I could see the heat, clinging like a net to the city; the air was gelatinous.
I deliberated, then I threw on a shirt, the only place to go was lab.