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Late summer, dog days
8/26/25 08:02 amIt was still hot, and would continue to be for another month or so. My skin was perpetually damp, sweat dripping down my back any time I moved.
Our street was sticky with the milk of trees, the air was thick with it. The leaves had not yet begun to change, but you could feel it, the turning under the still-green surface.
Walking was a struggle, but I did it anyway, shuffling packages from home to post office as things sold, items wending their way slowly through the postal service to new homes. Each trip I tried to stop somewhere new, to drop a penny or two at a new shop or find a new place to sit for a few moments to catch my breath.
Our street was sticky with the milk of trees, the air was thick with it. The leaves had not yet begun to change, but you could feel it, the turning under the still-green surface.
Walking was a struggle, but I did it anyway, shuffling packages from home to post office as things sold, items wending their way slowly through the postal service to new homes. Each trip I tried to stop somewhere new, to drop a penny or two at a new shop or find a new place to sit for a few moments to catch my breath.
