This is a reprint of my haibun that appeared previously in The Quarterday Review.

The heat attacks me while I doze, stifling me in its fiery throes. My heart turns into a stuttering drum; I wait for relief that will never come. It bathes me in sweat, drenches the bed, wets me, consumes me, from toe to head. I throw off the blankets; toss and turn; my breathing races, my face and neck burn. I cannot escape. There’s nowhere to go. I sigh and I quake as I dream of the snow.

No, not menopause.
Middle of August without
air conditioning.