It said it was ninety-nine degrees and just after six. Everyone moved though the streets like they were being held back. It was nice being on the same page, sticky as it was. The time where it turns between work and home and everyone's mind is of one thought: Just get me there. Creases formed on mens' shirts, women looked lovely as ever, everyone was happy and in pain. The weekend would bring sleep, alcohol, sex, sand. Soon these streets would be filled with people, people would be everywhere, people would have energy, everything would be different. But for now it was ninety-nine degrees, and just after six, and the seconds were caught right in front of us.
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