I’ve been waiting, craving the cold to furl through this musty heat. Is today the day? I open the door, and a grin creeps up as I watch the fog settle into the trees across the street. I have high hopes as my fingers grasp the knob.
I move forward with hope and throw open the hurricane glass door with trepidation, only to be met with a Sticky mugginess that has been here since the beginning of time, it feels like. It makes my grin fall flat on its face.
Today is not the day; the fog is a lie.