Two Blocks Was Enough

July eleventh. The heat advisory was already posted before either of us checked our phones, which means we made the decision to go out anyway with full information and no good excuse. The errand was small, the kind of thing that takes fifteen minutes on a normal day. July in this city is not a normal day.

We made it two blocks. Simone had her hand on the shop door before I'd finished saying 'this was a mistake.' The window AC unit was working so hard it was almost loud enough to be embarrassing, and neither of us cared even slightly. We stood just inside the entrance for probably a full minute before we moved further in. The street through the glass looked white and flat and hostile.

the moment of surrender

There's a particular quality to the relief of stepping out of that kind of heat, it's not just physical. It's the specific comedy of having overestimated yourself by about two blocks. Simone tipped her head back and made a sound that was less a word than a summary. I leaned against the wall and held my tote bag in front of me like it was something I needed to protect, even though there was nothing fragile in it.

the ceiling of an air-conditioned shop has never looked so beautiful

We stayed longer than the errand required. We looked at things on shelves we were not going to buy. Eventually the heat outside looked slightly less white and we went back out. The errand got done. The heat index was 103 by the time we split off at the corner, which I read later and felt like a small vindication, not that we needed one. Two blocks was evidence enough.