Right now in Los Angeles we are in the middle of a draught. It’s very hot already- even at 7 a.m. The coyotes are all coming down from the hills, looking for water, and they are wild and scraggly and beautiful- but dangerous for cats. The smog hangs brown and orange in the air, and plants and lawns are drying up, brown. People are drinking iced coffees, sweating with condensation, but other than that there is no water or dew. We’ve been told to conserve energy. There is no cheerleading practice. Sirens and garbage trucks sound different in the heat. People move slower, like they are in a dream. Or a mirage.
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