Notes on the Grippe

Being an accounting of the recent and continuing pandemic and its various circumstances, from the perspective of an inhabitant of the regions lately called the Lost Quarter. Dates unknown.

Day One Hundred Fifty Three

The heat has returned after a week of pleasant weather. It seems it will be here for a few days more at least, refusing to loosen its hold upon us.

Yesterday my love and I ventured out late in the afternoon, when the warmth was still at its peak, and exercised for a time. I was soon dripping with sweat, the air around me seeming to hold me tight in a scorching embrace.

The nights at least provide a little respite, and the first hints of the coming autumn, for it cools down considerably, more than it did even a few weeks ago. The sun sets sooner and rises later. Soon we will be complaining of the cold, rain and snow and wishing for sultry August temperatures.

When it is this warm I feel more lethargic than sultry, and damp, but not in an attractive way. It is more difficult to bear now that I am stranded at home because of the grippe reborn. My office had air conditioning, while my home does not, so I have no way to escape the growing tide of warmth that arrives each morning. Before we might have gone to a movie theatre, to watch whatever, just to pass a few hours in the chill of a mall. Now I put damp wash clothes in the freezer and press them to my face until the chill has been wrung from them.

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