It’s so humid that you can chew the air. 
Fireflies graze my shoulder whispering “it’s 87 degrees in the shade, go inside where the bought air is.”  
As the sweat sloshes in my undergarments, I make my way inside only to see my papa covered in blankets with his heater turned toward him. 
I can’t tell if it’s the menopause or the weather but I may sleep in the swimming pool tonight.