But even in the shade and with the windows rolled down, sweat would bead on my skin, and by the 60 minute mark I’d be ready to pass out. Occasionally I’d turn the car on for a few minutes of manufactured cold.
I let the fake breeze hit me then shut the car back off.
But the heat was worth the cost of what it bought me those August days: peace. I sought in vain for some quiet place indoors. A place where I could be still without distraction. A place without interruption. But failing in that endeavor, I retreated to my vehicle.
What was the point of peace I so dearly cherished?