I step carefully out of the building, waiting for the slow, suffocating heat to wrap its heavy arms around my body. Sweating already, I take the few steps across the street and make my way into the air-conditioned grocery store. Πολλή ζέστη, the only remark on everyone’s lips. Yes, it is very hot, too hot for steaming city cement, too hot for the sea breeze to make its way through the maze of buildings, so hot the humidity reaches down into your lungs and threatens to choke you, bringing up each breath as if it were your last.
The city becomes a shallow grave, the people walk slowly, carefully, wondering when –or if - they will be rescued. Do we have enough air to last another week? Or maybe just a couple more days. We’ll all survive just the same, like we always do, trudging our way through the heat of a city summer.
The heat is always the same, it doesn’t matter much what city you are in.
Leaving the grocery store, my husband heavy laden with bags, I reach the outside air and find a smile instead of a groan. This could be