New York City to Bethany Beach, Delaware, July 20, 2015

★ One man out on the morning street had put in the effort of a dapper blue-checked jacket and pink pincord trousers. Elsewhere were flip-flop sandals, loose dresses, a shirt unbuttoned vacation-style. The air conditioner on the 1 train seemed broken, but it was just defeated; between stations, cold air trickled down onto the closely packed heads of the commuters. It was clear the D train air conditioner was working because it was dripping not just onto the floor but into a seat. Nothing pleasant could be found on the streets. The afternoon on the Bowery was smothering. The late sun found peeling old paint high up on walls, and the peeling bits cast shadows that as the minutes stretched out seemed horologically meaningful. Somehow drinking water had failed to make it onto the agenda, the multiple agendas, and a headache began stabbing its way through the skull, back to front, making the face muscles wince against the glare at the end of each thrust. The train back uptown filled up and heated up along its way; a woman fanned herself with her hand. The usual fecal smell on Broadway below 63rd was at rare strength. Clouds piled up clean and white, a vision of some other world. There were caffeine and gas enough in their respective systems, but it was necessary to hit a Turnpike rest stop for a bottle of water. The sky by the ocean was thick with constellations unseeable in the city.