Tuesday, June 24, 2025, 90.1* 0853 Sun
I looked at bright white patterns on the ceiling, changing, rearranging angles and lines, being still, moving again according to the whims of leaves jostled by wind and light coming through the blinds, sun at the perfect angle. I didn’t need to look to know the air quality index is hazardous, my breathing tells me. That reading like temperature varies according to where measurements are taken. Human bodies are a better measure.
There will be no clouds of dust kicked up, the three are not allowed to joust. Zayne will not be rolling in the dirt absorbing heat, rubbing black soil into his black fur. I won’t be sitting under an umbrella, while the three would be playing, looking at the sky or the Waved Sphinx Moth holding onto the railing. He should have flown away just before dawn.
Better to rest on days like this.
Photo: LJ Austin
