Too hot, too long

It's been over 95º, sometimes (like today) over 100º, every day for the last 8 days. At night the mercury doesn't dip to less than 85º, so there's no opportunity for the sidewalks, streets and brick buildings to cool down. Pavement is beginning to buckle. The heat index -- the way the air feels on skin -- is 125º.

It continues into tomorrow. It has not been this hot, this long, since 1995. (THIS JUST IN: It hasn't been this hot, this long, here in Chicago since the 1940s.) It's hard to take. I feel like I'm being held hostage indoors -- just the two block walk from the el stop left my t-shirt stuck to my back with sweat.

Worse, the little window air conditioner in my bedroom has quit pulling its weight. It's better than just the fan -- much better, in fact -- but it's still not cool. I think it's all that unremitting afternoon sun. I have cleaned and recleaned the filter and removed as much cat hair as I could from every nook and cranny I could reach. I want to give it a fighting chance.

Tomorrow night it's finally supposed to rain and then (bliss!) finally dip down into the 70s. I dream of being able to walk outside again!

Trifecta

This weekend's challenge: Using between 33 and 333, compose something that includes: The world will end in three days.

He stands with his microphone on one of the Loop's busiest corners. He's there almost every day, hawking pamphlets and harassing passers by. Chicagoans tend to ignore him. I've never seen anyone give him a cent or take one of his brochures, though over the years I have witnessed him reduce unsuspecting tourists to tears of embarrassment.

"You, ma'am, are wearing the garb of a Muslim. According to our Lord Jesus Christ, you are going straight to hell." 

"God said Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. You gay boys are going to hell!"

"Look at how that girl is dressed! You are an abomination. According to the Bible, Miss, you are a whore and hell awaits you."

"The world will end in three days. Are you prepared to look upon the face of Christ?"

"Better prepared than you are, you wretched old hate monger," I mutter under my breath.